


The Dreams That You Keep

by ebonlock



Series: Tooth of Wolf [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Nochnoy Dozor | Night Watch (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Gen, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Slash, russian fairy tales - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonlock/pseuds/ebonlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus Lupin is living a double life, to the world he's a renowned author, war hero and divorcee who just happens to be a werewolf.  He's also embroiled in a passionate affair with a man the rest of the wizarding world believes to be dead.  Remus is financially well off, in a relatively stable relationship, and starting to believe he might just have this whole life thing worked out.</p>
<p>That is until he visits Grimmauld Place and discovers that Sirius Black may not be dead after all.</p>
<p>Thus starts an intense adventure that takes him to Moscow and a showdown against one of the most ancient sorceresses in the East.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolf and makes reference to many of the events that took place in that story. Basically I got as far as Half-Blood Prince and just made my own sharp left turn, spinning off my own private universe. This is also a crossover with the Night Watch series, you don't necessarily need to have read/seen it but it might help.

I sat back in my chair with a belated glance at the microphone I was supposed to be speaking into. Although a great deal more comfortable, I worried that I was too far away to be heard properly so shifted closer again. With a calculatedly harmless smile that was lost on everyone but my interviewer, Rebecca Devonald, I cleared my throat and folded my hands demurely on my lap. “It’s a real pleasure to be here.”

She returned my smile, her own dimpling her pudgy cheeks. “I’d like to introduce you to our listeners here on Book Nook, Mr. Lupin, if I might.” This was obviously rhetorical as she immediately launched into her spiel, “War hero, former Ministry employee, outspoken werewolf rights advocate, and now best selling author of the gripping true crime work, ‘The Potion Master Murders’. Remus Lupin has become a household name in the past three months to rival even the legendary Gilderoy Lockhart, and we are very fortunate to have him with us today. Thank you for speaking with me and my listeners today, Mr. Lupin.”

“Please,” I countered bashfully, “do call me Remus.”

“Well then thank you, Remus. I should like to start out the interview by adding that you not only wrote an amazing book about the all too recent murders, but you were also instrumental in the investigation itself. Not to mention having a very personal hand in stopping the killer.”

“I played my part.” That wasn’t humility in the slightest; to my mind I’d done very little during the investigation. I’d been Watson to Severus’ Holmes and I had no illusions about that. “The true hero of the investigation wasn’t myself or any member of the Ministry, rather Severus Snape. I hope that came across sufficiently in the book.”

“I should say so,” Rebecca reassured me earnestly. “I for one was horrified to read about his mistreatment at the hands of our former Minister, not to mention his false imprisonment. The very thought that justice came far too late in his case has given me more than my fair share of sleepless nights. I can only imagine how you must have felt.”

“Much as you’ve described, horrified, angry, frustrated beyond belief that justice could have been so thwarted in his case. Still, I hope that in some small way I’ve at least helped him to rest a little more easily now that his name has been cleared. Knowing Severus, he would have taken some pleasure out of posthumous vindication…or at least been vaguely amused by it.” My lips quirked again, mostly because I’d heard chapter and verse from Severus on this very subject more often than I cared to remember. “Severus had an…interesting sense of humor.”

“That certainly comes across in the book as well, particularly in chapter five, during your discussions regarding the nature of the killer. I think that’s part of what makes the book so extraordinary in its genre, not only is it intelligent, well paced and brutally honest, but it’s also surprisingly humorous. Given the subject matter that’s quite rare.”

“I wanted to convey the reality of that period, the work we did, and the people we were at the time. It’s important to me that readers have an honest depiction of the events rather than some fictionalized account. What drama there is in the story was inherent in the murders and investigation itself.”

“If I may I’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the actual process of writing ‘The Potion Master Murders’. Prior to this you’d penned a few articles on the subjects of Dark Creatures in general, and lycanthropes in particular, but this is the first major work you’ve ever attempted is that correct?”

I nodded, then chuckled and said aloud, “Yes, that’s right. To be honest, while I’ve always enjoyed writing and hoped some day to have the time and energy to devote it, this was my first real opportunity. Of course beyond that I knew Severus wanted me to write the case up, to be certain the truth was released to the public before someone like, oh, say Rita Skeeter could lay her hands on it.” I smiled again, but there was neither humor nor pleasure in it. From Rebecca’s expression, she both understood and quite agreed with me. “As for the process of writing the book itself, it was surprisingly straightforward. Between my notes and Severus’, which I might add, were astonishingly detailed, the book all but wrote itself.”

“No book writes itself, Remus,” Rebecca corrected me primly. “Even in true life works it’s the skill of the author that makes what might otherwise be a simple laundry list of facts into a compelling narrative. I would like to know whether you feel that your work has been directly responsible for the recent governmental upheavals, particularly the changes in administration in the Ministry and the newer more lenient lycanthropic laws coming up for a vote over the next few weeks?”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far.” Frankly I was a little unsettled by the question. Not that she was wrong, in fact, she was a little to near the mark for my comfort. Scrimgeour was doomed the minute my book hit the stands, and his wasn’t the only head to roll thanks to my accounting of the events surrounding the murder investigation. It was all I could do to make certain Dora’s didn’t join them. Still, the last thing I wanted was to have people connect those changes with a Dark Creature like myself. It would be all too easy to stoke the fires of rampant bigotry and paranoia. A life spent in the single-minded pursuit of obscurity was hard to shake off now that I was a media darling. There was a safety in fitting in, being quietly unnoticed, that I was beginning to miss.

“I believe you’re selling yourself short, Remus. If not your work what would you attribute the recent changes to?”

“I dunno’,” I averred with a vague wave of my hand, “I mean I’d like to think that public opinion isn’t quite that easily swayed but I suppose I’ve always been a little naïve. At least that’s what Severus was fond of telling me.”

“The two of you really managed to create and bond during the case. It’s interesting when you take into consideration the history between the two of you, particularly during your school days.”

“I’d like to think we created a real friendship by the end, certainly.” Well, I told myself, ‘friendship’ was one word for what existed between the two of us. “I think I’d earned a certain degree of trust and…well, even forgiveness for the things that went on between us back in Hogwarts and after the war.”

“Do you see yourself working on a future investigation in either an official or unofficial capacity?”

I laughed again. “I rather doubt it. My inclusion on this case was a once in a lifetime event, the right alignment of circumstances at the right time. However, I think I’ve rather burned my bridges at the Ministry. Understandably so, wouldn’t you say?”

“Just one last question, if I might, Remus. If you had to sum up your experience working with Severus Snape in one word…”

My lips twitched and I paused just long enough to add a hint of drama to the response, “Productive.”

\--

“’Productive’?” A warm, familiar body slid under the covers behind me, slender, cool hands sliding over my arm and under my neck. “You are such a twat.”

“Well honestly,” I grumbled, wriggling back against Severus’ bony pelvis, “would you have preferred that I describe my time with you as ‘homosexually enlightening’?”

That surprised a soft chuff of laughter from him. “Yes, actually, I would but only if I could be in the same room with Minerva and your darling ex-wife as they listened to the interview.” His hardening erection bumped less than casually against my ass. “It’s the little pleasures in life, you know.”

I ground myself back against him, once again realizing that Severus was simply full to bursting with the best ideas. Gazing at him impishly over my shoulder I said, “I wouldn’t exactly call that a ‘little pleasure’, my dear.”

“Ah, at last, definitive proof that you are a size queen.”

“If I am you’ve only yourself to blame.”

There was more than just a touch of satisfaction in his answering grin. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“So long as it gets me laid.” I moaned softly as he nibbled my throat and tweaked my left nipple, sending sharp sparks of pleasure straight down to my toes. “I do have my…priorities after all.”

“Have I mentioned recently just how much I approve of your current priorities?” 

His hands were doing obscenely wonderful things to my lower belly as he spoke. I wondered fleetingly whether his ability to multi-task was what made him so brilliant at potions. Well, I amended silently, one of the traits that contributed to his brilliance at least. “What did you think of the interview?” I asked breathlessly.

“Quite…adequate.” Each word was punctuated by a delicate kiss and nibble to my shoulder and throat.

“Adequate, hmm?” I tried to roll over but he held me firmly in place. Sighing with a combination of frustration and resignation, I reached back to knead his ass cheek as best I could. Somehow he always managed to maintain control in bed. At first I’d welcomed it, following his lead like an eager child. The problem was the more experienced I became the more I wanted to make use of what I’d learned. Not, mind you, that I wasn’t enjoying myself, far from it. Severus was an accomplished and surprisingly thoughtful lover. Still, something about his continued need for absolute control in bed was beginning to grate on me a little.

“Well,” he murmured against my skin, “if I had to choose just one word to describe it…”

“Git,” I returned, but there was no heat in it. “Where’d you listen to it?”

“The Three Broomsticks.”

I tensed immediately, and not in a good way. “Severus that was dangerous! What if you’d been recognized?”

“Give me a bit of credit, will you?” he sighed, grasping my cock and rather effectively distracting me from an all too familiar argument. “I am still quite capable of brewing a perfectly serviceable Polyjuice.”

“Still,” I moaned as we began to move together in a flawless rhythm, “too dangerous.”

“I can…look after myself,” he panted.

I always promised myself I’d ask him how he managed to be so slick and perfect when I’d rarely ever seen him resort to lubrication of any kind. Of course I never remembered to do so after the fact, and even if I had it was doubtful he’d give me an honest answer on the subject. He liked his little secrets, particularly where sex was concerned. 

Altogether too soon I lost myself to his clever hands, one holding me steady while the other engaged in the most wonderfully maddening manipulation of my cock. The movement reminded me rather absurdly of casting Wingardium Leviosa and I could almost hear Professor Flitwick’s tinny voice intoning, “Swish and flick!” I know that should’ve put me off a bit, but it only made me giddy with suppressed laughter.

When he entered me with one swift, practiced thrust I keened softly, feeling even more heady. I met each of his thrusts and actually squealed aloud as he quickened the exquisite pace of his hand. I couldn’t last, didn’t want to really, and came with the most decadent selfishness. That, at least, was the one benefit of Severus’ exclusive topping. 

He shuddered and pulsed within me, his hot breath on my shoulder. As his body melted even further into mine I sighed happily, “Definitely not a ‘little pleasure’.”

Severus merely chuckled, his hooked nose tracing a fine line along the back of my neck. 

“Can you stay tonight?” I hated how needy I sounded, yet I couldn’t resist asking. I was becoming decidedly greedy in my old age. I wanted to wake up draped in warm, slender limbs and then to share some utterly decadent breakfast in bed; perhaps waffles covered in strawberries and whipping cream. 

He tensed slightly, and then sighed against my shoulder blade. “I shouldn’t.”

“Yes you should,” I actually whined. Rolling over with some little difficulty to face him, I grumbled, “Severus it’s perfectly safe here. No one comes to visit and even if they did I’ve enough wards up to give Gringott’s a run for its money…so to speak. I’m just asking for one complete night, one actual morning together. It’s a little tiring to always wake up and find you’ve gone.”

“It’s…safer…”

I cut him off with an annoyed huff. “Safer for whom? Just where in the hell do you go when you leave here, hmm? Are you…I mean, is there someone else?”

He lifted himself up on one elbow, his eyebrows rising nearly to his hairline. “You’re not seriously…Merlin’s sagging balls! You are, you’re jealous!” Collapsing on his back he threw an arm over his eyes and nearly bawled with laughter.

“Git,” I muttered smacking him on the shoulder. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question under the circumstances. Sometimes it seems as if you can’t wait to leave my bed as quickly as possible. I mean honestly you take ridiculous risks every single day with your safety and you expect me to believe…”

“I expect you to believe,” he cut in with complete seriousness, “that I’m not willing to take those risks with your life. If I get caught at the Three Broomsticks it’s my head on the block and I’ll happily pay for my error in judgment.” Reaching over to run his thumb along what he still insisted on referring to as my ‘ridiculous excuse for a moustache’, he sighed, “You have a life now, fame, respect, even a modicum of wealth. What do you suppose would happen to all of that if I were found here with you?”

I started to tell him I didn’t care but somehow I couldn’t voice the words aloud. Perhaps it was because, as much as I wished such a statement were the simple truth of the matter, it wasn’t. I was enjoying my new life, it was comfortable and secure in a way I hadn’t known since I was a young child. And if it came to it, if I had to choose between that serenity and Severus, well I didn’t care to dwell on the thought for too long.

He merely grunted as though well aware of the decidedly worn path my mind was currently following. I took some small comfort in the fact that I’d never lied to him, never told him pretty words that weren’t a true reflection of my heart. Not that it would have done me any good to attempt deception, not with Severus Snape former master spy turned amateur sleuth and now fugitive. 

And that didn’t even take into consideration his Legilimency skills which were, in a word, formidable. “I’ll stay a while longer.” There was a hint of finality in his tone. 

I sighed dramatically and reached out to run a hand possessively over the hollow of his abdomen. “Fine.”

“After all,” his lips quirked and his voice rumbled with humor, “I can’t keep the remainder of my harem waiting forever. They’re apt to start squabbling amongst themselves.” I cut him off momentarily with a pillow to the face. “I should like to point out that none of my other lovers resorts to violence.”

“I find that very difficult to believe.”

“No, no, I assure you they’re all charming, passive little doe-eyed boys who live only to pleasure me. And you wonder why I race off each night to their arms.”

“’Boys’, hmm? Letcher,” I muttered a little more fondly than I’d intended. 

“Yes, well you don’t imagine I spent all those years at Hogwarts simply for my health, do you?” I gave him a shocked look to which he replied with a chuckle, “As if you didn’t enjoy the scenery as well. And don’t think I didn’t notice you ogling Oliver Wood’s ass, either.”

“He was just a child!” I protested weakly.

“Mmm, a child possessed of a singularly exquisite ass.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” So he had noticed my rather sudden and indecently avid interest in Quidditch during my brief tenure at Hogwarts. Well a man couldn’t be blamed for looking, and that was as far as it would ever have gone. “At any rate I prefer my asses a bit more pale and skinny. Not to mention attached to someone well above the age of consent.”

“You’d better.”

I smirked down at him, then crawled closer to drape myself over his body. Resting my head on his shoulder I mumbled into his myrrh scented skin, “The boys can have you later, for a few more hours you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he sighed with weary indulgence; smoothing my hair back with long, gentle strokes. “I’m yours.”


	2. Chapter 2

The blessing and curse of being a respected and at least mildly famous writer was that one was expected to continually be working on one’s next project. Friends inevitably asked me what I was working on during those infrequent invitations to dinner I accepted. It was all I could do to smile politely and reply that I had a few ideas percolating but nothing definitive.

Worse by far was when complete strangers would recognize me and launch into a detailed inquisition on the subject. Friends would at least allow me the luxury of a quick and painless deflection; not so with strangers, who seemed to feel I owed them a detailed response. They were, after all, my fans. Without them where would I be?

I found the question beginning to follow me everywhere, a constant low-level anxiety that I simply couldn’t shake. The long hours and days without Severus’ presence left me few distractions, and soon I found myself pondering the subject morning, noon and night. It was completely maddening.

That is, until I received a package from Hogwarts.

Owl post to Spinner’s End had become a daily occurrence and so I wasn’t terribly surprised to find a small package addressed to me on the front steps. When I saw Minerva’s name on the return address my eyebrows shot up. What on earth could the Headmistress be sending me?

Delighted and intrigued I hurried it into the kitchen and snatched the bread knife from the sink to slice through the brown wrapping paper. I opened the box carefully, not quite sure what to expect, and found inside a rolled parchment and short note. The latter read:  
 _  
Dear Remus,_

_I came upon this while clearing away a few of Albus’ bits and bobs (over his portrait’s strenuous objections, I might add, but honestly the man was such an unrepentant packrat) and I thought you might rather enjoy having it back. I don’t expect there’s any further mischief you can cause with it here at Hogwarts, and it is one of the bonniest little charms I’ve run across in all my days. You should be quite proud of yourself as I’m certain you were the mastermind behind its creation.  
My Best,_

_Minerva_

Grinning in spite of myself, I unrolled the seemingly blank parchment before tapping it with my wand and murmuring, “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

The Marauder’s Map came to life in my hands obediently showing me the locations of everyone in Hogwarts. I couldn’t quite help giving it a paternally adoring look. It had quite literally taken me months of late night research, with constant prodding from James and Sirius, to even begin to wrap my brain around the complex Arithmantic formulas necessary. When I finally laid out the actual spellwork I was only too happy to leave it to James, whose wand skill far surpassed my own. It was Sirius who came up with the security features, I must admit I hadn’t even considered the possibility of the map falling into a teacher’s hands, or worse, Mr. Filch’s. And Peter…

I shook my head rather viciously as if to dislodge the memory that the man had ever been one of my dearest friends. He was a traitor, a murderer, a completely heartless bastard who’d sided with Voldemort against all of us and managed to lock Sirius away in Azkaban for the better part of his life. And yet, despite all that, I couldn’t deny that there had been a time when he’d been like a brother to me.

Indeed for many years he and I had been as close as James and Sirius. We’d never really labeled ourselves “best friends” as such, but it was all but understood. Perhaps we bonded over the fact that neither of us felt as if we were quite in the same league as Potter and Black. We both lived in a constant state of mild panic that our covers would be blown and the smiles we’d grown so accustomed to would turn to sneers.

In short, we were terrified that someday we’d be treated to the same vicious disdain we daily heaped upon Severus.

I sighed and gazed down at the map again wondering vaguely just how my lover would react to having it in the house. A constant reminder of the Marauder days might well please me but I couldn’t bring myself to believe it wouldn’t become a sore point between us. If there was one thing our relationship, as young and delicate as it was, didn’t need it was a reminder that we’d once been rather bitter enemies.

I bit my lip and grumbled, “Mischief managed.” Then with grim determination I re-rolled the parchment and marched up to my bedroom. I opened the closet and, with a quick levitation spell, pulled my trunk from within. I dug around inside until I found a likely spot and tucked the map safely away. 

I told myself it was simple pragmatism rather than cowardice, and I almost believed it. However, it had started my brain down a path that seemed at once dangerous and entirely too desirable. This was the story I’d been waiting to tell, that of the ill-fated Marauders and the First War against Voldemort.

With a sigh I returned the chest to its usual spot and straightened the few nice suits that currently hung on the rack above it. I paused for a moment, as I always did, to finger the Muggle phonograph that Severus had insisted upon keeping. He’d never, to my knowledge, played the silly thing since I’d come to live at Spinner’s End and it wasn’t as if I didn’t possess a perfectly good wizarding version of my own.

When I’d asked him about it he’d merely replied that he had few enough pleasant memories from his childhood and that device was one of two remaining tangible ones. The other, of course, was his beloved copy of “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes”. A work that I too had grown rather absurdly fond of, though I still had difficulty reading “The Case of the Dying Detective”.

“It wouldn’t hurt to do a bit of research,” I muttered to myself as I stood up. “Perhaps I could visit Grimmauld Place and Hogwarts…just for a bit. Severus needn’t know.” The thought made me vaguely uncomfortable and intensely excited all at once. It was almost like being a Marauder again.

\--

I approached Grimmauld Place with a reverence that Severus would have found downright hilarious. It was, for all intents and purposes, merely a normal wizarding home…though perhaps a bit more run-down and weary looking than most. The house had seen its fair share of drama and tragedy and seemed ready for a long, undisturbed nap.

That made me feel more than a little guilty until I realized the house was no more sentient than Spinner’s End. Shaking off both the nonsensical thoughts and absurd emotions, I unlocked the door and slipped inside. Astonishingly the place was filled with workmen’s tools, scaffolds and such. ‘Harry must be redecorating,’ I thought, then called out, “Anyone at home?” Only a few creaks and dust-laden sighs answered me. For the moment it was just an empty old house. Perfect.

I found my way up to Sirius’ old room and was surprised once more to note that it had been left entirely untouched. It didn’t surprise me that Harry had been loathe to change it, but I did find it odd that Sirius had lived here for well over a year and yet it still looked precisely as it had the last time I’d entered it as a boy. Perhaps Severus had been more right in his assessment of Sirius than I’d thought. Arrested development, indeed.

There were schoolbooks in one corner, the Olivander’s box his original wand had rested in still propped up one corner of the vanity, and of course a photo of the Marauders pinned to the mirror. Some clinical portion of my brain noted it might make an excellent cover for my next book. I thought I might pocket it before I left, Harry wouldn’t mind.

The bed groaned ominously as I sat down and I paused a moment to be certain it would hold my weight. Satisfied, I pulled out my ever-present notepad and began scribbling down a few notes. I wanted to get my thoughts down quickly, I’d clean them up and edit everything as I transcribed them later.

I was so caught up in my note taking that I almost didn’t notice the movement just off to my right. Looking up belatedly the room seemed just as still and lifeless as it had been seconds before. But then I saw it again out of the corner of my eye, something moving and reflected in the mirror.

Moving closer to the vanity I gazed at my own reflection and that of the room. Nothing seemed amiss, one sandy-haired, aging werewolf in a former friend’s bedroom. No movement save that of the rambunctious boys goofing off in the photo. I noted with some dismay that my former self seemed intent on mooning me while the other three howled with silent laughter. I hadn’t fully realized just what a little shit I’d once been, though I was sure Severus could give me chapter and verse on the subject.

I shook my head, now convinced I’d seen nothing more than the movements of four ill-behaved hooligans and started to turn when a flicker of white drew my eyes back. It was coming from the center of the mirror itself and seemed like a mist descending over my reflection. I stood in puzzled shock for several seconds before my brain helpfully supplied, ‘Boggart’ and I flew into action.

Wand at the ready I brought up an image of Severus and I spending one glorious, lazy Sunday evening in bed, naked and doing crosswords. Smile now firmly in place I cast Riddikulus…to absolutely no effect. Part of me was damned glad I was completely alone in the house, the other yammered, ‘Yes, but what are you completely alone with?’ Well, not a Boggart, that much was clear.

As I stood stupefied the white mist slowly began to form an outline, somewhat shorter than myself, thinner, more ragged about the edges. I took a cautious step back as it became the figure of a man. At first it remained vague like a blurry watercolor in shades of white and gray. But with each passing second details became apparent. Dark, unkept hair followed by a gaunt face and hollow eyes…sad eyes…familiar eyes. Before I could stop myself I cried, “Sirius!”

The figure seemed to be laughing or perhaps weeping, possibly both, as it pressed two spectral hands against its side of the glass. The mirror seemed unnaturally chilly as I copied the gesture. He seemed to be desperately trying to tell me something, but I shook my head to indicate that I couldn’t hear a word. Throwing his head back he wailed silently with frustration and despair. I was frantic to get to him, “How?” I moaned aloud, all but clawing at the glass that separated us. “What do I need to do, Sirius?”

Drained and forlorn, he beat one impotent fist against the mirror and I noted with some dismay that he was beginning to fade again. Before he lost too much coherence he leaned closer and mouthed two words slowly and great care, “Help me.”

I nodded dumbly before replying in the same exaggerated fashion, “I will.”

He nodded once, then glanced behind him in stark terror. His form seemed to be yanked away from the mirror at a horrifying speed before disappearing into nothingness. Soon all I could see was the dusty, unused room I now occupied.

I don’t recall how I ended up on the floor. I assume my legs must have given out at some point. My head was spinning and I wondered vaguely if I were going to pass out. Sirius was alive, or at least some part of him still existed beyond the Veil and he needed help…my help. The problem was I had absolutely no idea how to do it. None. But that didn’t matter, I’d find a way to rescue him… And I knew just who to talk to first.


	3. Chapter 3

“Severus, what do you know about the Arch?”

His body tensed behind mine for just an instant before he deliberately forced himself to relax. “What arch?”

“The Arch in the Department of Mysteries. The one Sirius fell into that awful night the Death Eaters attacked the Ministry.” I turned over to face my lover and growled, “ **That** Arch.”

He appeared to be counting the numerous cracks in the ancient plaster ceiling. “Not much. It’s never been an artifact in which I had tremendous interest.”

My eyes narrowed. To the best of my knowledge there wasn’t a dark artifact on the planet that didn’t make his toes positively curl. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Severus replied, his voice clipped and brittle, “that’s so.”

“Well do you know of any resources for obtaining information on the Arch?”

“Possibly.”

I felt like thumping him good and proper for that, but restrained myself. After all, I really did need his help. Smiling in what I hoped was an alluring manner I said, “And would you be willing to help me find this information?”

“Why?”

The bastard had already worked out my entire argument from start to finish and yet he was determined to make me lay it all out, point by point. “You know why, Severus.” When he didn’t respond I allowed my rising irritation to color my voice. “I told you what I experienced at Grimmauld Place. I’m convinced Sirius isn’t dead, rather trapped behind the Veil.”

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous…” he stopped abruptly, and took a deep breath. “I fail to see why you’re discussing this with me. Talk to Minerva, she has access to Albus’ private library and will undoubtedly be delighted to humor your latest foray into the realm of guilt-induced paranoia.”

I decided a different approach might be called for. In as teasing a tone as I could manage I said, “I could make it worth your while.” I ran a finger almost casually from his knee to his balls.

He jerked away from me as if I’d clawed him. Pulling back as far as he could, he eased himself into a sitting position against the headboard. “Don’t…don’t do that again.”

“Do what?” I was genuinely confounded. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t touched him precisely the same way a thousand times before.

“Touch me…sleep with me because you want to, not as a bribe to do your bidding. I may be pathetic but I haven’t quite fallen that low yet.” His eyes looked almost haunted. “Not yet.”

His gaze was swallowing me whole. I looked away hurriedly. “It was just a joke.”

“To you, perhaps.”

I tried not to let myself imagine what in his life could cause him to react so violently to my proposition. “Look, Severus, you know me well enough to realize that I won’t drop this. I’ll eventually find the information I need but you could save me a great deal of time and effort if you helped. This is your area of expertise, after all.”

“I beg to differ, my ‘area of expertise’ is potions if you’ll recall.”

“Oh don’t be so willfully obtuse, Severus!” I was quickly losing a battle with my temper. “You came to Hogwarts knowing more about the Dark Arts than the rest of us combined.”

“Did I?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“You know bloody well you did.”

“And precisely where did you learn that?”

“Siri-…” I had the good sense to realize that I’d just stumbled quite stupidly into a verbal pit trap. Mentally flailing to avoid falling further, I blurted, “I mean everyone knew it. And it wasn’t as though you went out of your way to hide what you were studying.”

He blinked at me then rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. “I see. Because I had a youthful interest in the Dark Arts I’m the perfect candidate to acquire information about the Arch.”

“Severus you were still fascinated by the Dark Arts well into your adulthood and you know it.”

“I had, I believe, a bloody good reason to be at the time!” He gave me a significant look, then rose stiffly from the bed. I watched moonlight slide almost languidly along the planes and angles of his body as he moved to the chair to collect his clothing and begin dressing.

“Where are you going?”

“Well,” he returned, buttoning up his trousers, “I can’t very well do the research you require of me here, now can I?”

“You’re going to do research at two in the morning?”

“It’s rather a good time for someone who doesn’t wish to be seen, wouldn’t you say?”

I frowned and muttered, “Severus I didn’t mean for you to start right now. Come back to bed.”

“I think not.” His voice had gone brusque and sufficiently icy to make me wince. “I’ll get no more sleep tonight.” Pulling on his favorite jumper he added, “I’ll contact you in three days time. I should have something for you then.”

“Severus, would you…” He ignored me and all but ran down the stairs. “Severus!”

I moaned and face planted into the nearest pillow. Well that had gone just swimmingly. At this rate we wouldn’t even be speaking in a fortnight.

I wrapped my arms around the pillow and inhaled my lover’s scent greedily. It was oddly comforting, and I allowed myself to believe that perhaps I might be able to salvage the situation. Next time I’d be more tactful. No mentions of Sirius, just the problem at hand. Emphasize the mental puzzle, let Severus’ natural impulses lead him into solving it; that was the key.

\--

Precisely three days later Severus returned, banging rather irritatingly on the back door. I pulled my hands from the dishwater and all but dragged him into the house. Unfortunately while I was doing so Whimsy managed to worm his way between our legs and escape into the night. The cat had discovered the great outdoors and seemed determined to treat me as his jailer. I tried not to spend too much time on contemplating the fact that neither my cat nor my lover seemed terribly interested in my company at the moment.

Severus was wearing the same clothing as the night he’d left and an expression equal parts fatigue and irritation. When I just stood staring at him and dripping water onto the kitchen floor, he growled, “Might I have a bit of tea before you begin the inquisition?”

“Of course,” I replied mildly. Wiping my hands on the only clean dishtowel available, I put the kettle on and set out our two favorite mugs. His had acquired a chip in its black veneer recently and I’d toyed with the idea of chucking it. I was loath, though, to remove anything from a house I still considered to be his.

I noticed a slight tremor in his hands as he wrapped them around the plain black mug. “I’m afraid I have very little to tell you.”

“What do you mean?” I joined him at the table with my Earl Grey.

“I mean precisely that. Not even the Ministry contains any useful information on the device…Hence it’s current location in the depths of the Department of Mysteries.”

“Severus please tell me you didn’t venture into the Ministry!” Now it was my hands that shook.

He focused on his tea for a moment, then said, “There are other avenues of inquiry, of course, though my current legal status would make them rather more risky.”

“I…I’ll try Hogwarts, I should’ve done that from the start.” I reached across and took one of his hands in mine. They were icy despite the warm tea. “No more risks.”

“And if you can’t acquire anything of use from Albus’ collection of the Restricted Area, what then?”

“If you could point me to a few of the contacts that might be of some use, well I have some money now and I can afford to…”

“Afford to what?” He slid his hand abruptly from mine. “And precisely which contacts of mine do you suppose you’d be able to bribe with a few Galleons? Trust me, Remus, the people who might have information on this subject wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested in gold. They’d want more, much more.”

“Then I’ll get it.” 

We simply started at one another for a few moments, the only sound was a cat’s yowl from several houses away. I sincerely hoped it wasn’t Whimsy. Finally Severus broke the silence. “How much does this mean to you?”

“How can you ask me that?” I returned, utterly stunned. “If Sirius really is alive and trapped on some other plane I have to do everything within my power to free him. He’s my friend, I can’t just abandon him to more suffering. Merlin knows he had more than enough of that, locked away in Azkaban because I was too stupid to see the truth. All those years…all those wasted years…” There were nights I couldn’t sleep for the thought of my dear friend lost and alone in some hellish place. I had to free him, there simply was no other choice.

“I see.” He nodded, an expression I couldn’t quite interpret settling over his features. “Yes, I see.” His tone was inflectionless, as if he were turning the words over in his mind like some obscure, cryptic language. After a few seconds of this he seemed to reach a conclusion. Standing abruptly, he made his weary way up to our room.

I followed, a puzzled frown on my face. “Severus?”

He hastily threw what little clothing he kept at the house into an untidy pile on the bed. Glancing up at me on his way between the closet and armoire, he said, “May I borrow your valise?”

“Yes, I mean, why?”

“I can’t very well fit all of this into my pockets, can I?”

“Why do you need to? I mean if I’ve said or, or done something that…”

“Don’t be stupid.” His words might have been rather blunt but the tone was familiar and oddly affectionate. “I’ll be away a week, possibly two.”

“Away, where?” When he didn’t answer, I reached out and grabbed his arm, hauling him around to face me. “Away where?”

“On a wild goose chase, I suspect, but I may have more information for you when I return.”

My heart started to race, though whether from fear or hope I couldn’t say. “Where the hell are you going, Severus?”

“Have you seen my boots?”

I gazed at him stupidly for a moment. Finally, snapping my dangling jaw shut I growled, “Severus!”

“Fine, I’ll find them myself.” He shook himself loose and began to toss random shoes from the floor of the closet out onto the tatty carpet.

“I…will you…Dammit, stop that!” I pulled him bodily out of the way and leaned inside to push my formal robes back and reveal his bloody boots. I presented them to him as if they were the Order of Merlin itself.

“Thank you, add them to the pile, please.”

“I’ll do no such thing until you tell me where you’re going!”

“The less you know the better, I should think.” He began folding his shirts while blithely ignoring my question. “In the meantime it would be wise for you to follow up with Minerva as I suggested. I find it highly unlikely that Albus will actually have anything of any use but stranger things have happened. The Restricted Area is going to be useless to you, you can take my word for that.” He paused and then added, “I believe I’ll stay here tonight and leave in the morning. I don’t trust myself to Apparate just now.”

It was as close to an obvious lie as I’d ever heard him utter to me. He’d sooner risk splinching himself than ever admit to all too human frailties. However, it was a lie that suited me as well as it did him so I let it go unchallenged. “I’d really like to know where you intend to go, Severus.”

“I think…not.”

“Severus…” I began, but he cut me off.

“I have my reasons, Remus, for now I ask you to accept that and trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I trust you, I just don’t understand this perpetual need for secrecy. Aside from your rampant paranoia, of course.”

“Survival skills, particularly useful ones, are all but impossible to be rid of. Paranoia has served me very well since childhood, thank you very much.

“You’ll be back, though.” I hated how needy I sounded as I moved over to lean against him.

“Yes,” he sighed into my hair, “I’ll be back.”

“And then we’ll save Sirius.”

“Yes, I imagine we will.”


	4. Chapter 4

A week passed, I filled it with chores about the house, writing cheques to pay the few bills I’d managed to accumulate in the previous month and various other little tasks with which to pass the time. The second week was spent preparing for the full moon, stocking up on groceries and answering the modest pile of fan mail I’d received. As I could now afford the very best Wolfsbane potions on the market, my transformation was delightfully mild, and I was only laid up for one rainy Saturday afternoon. I filled that with a liberal application of Earl Grey, tomato soup and a thoroughly trashy historical romance.

The latter depressed me utterly and filled my dreams with images of Severus prostrating himself before powerful, ridiculously handsome wizards dangling information and…other things just out of his reach. It was absurd, but I spent that entire Sunday in a serious funk, replaying those images in my mind. Monday I determined that I was, in fact, acting like a moody teenage girl. Severus would never let me hear the end of it.

By Wednesday I was debating returning to Grimmauld Place with the insane hope that I might be able to exchange some sort of useful information with Sirius. I'd received no response from Minerva and a trip to Hogwarts was beginning to seem a reasonable use of time as well. I dithered while baking a batch of chocolate chip muffins, and was utterly distracted when Lord Whimsy made an appearance. By the time I’d finished fussing over both half the day had already passed. 

As the clock struck 6 Whimsy and I nearly jumped out of our collective skins as Severus staggered in the door, kicking it shut behind him.

“You’re back. I…did you…do you know how to save Sirius?” I realized as soon as the words left my mouth that first, I sounded slightly less coherent than Luna Lovegood, and second that I really should’ve asked him if he was all right before mentioning Sirius. The razor thin press of his lips emphasized the latter realization. 

He really did look quite dreadful, too, with that slightly dazed, bone deep weariness that international Apparating always left in its wake. I was a little startled to notice he’d allowed his hair and eyes to return to their natural onyx coloring. I’d just gotten used to his silver locks and pale eyes over the past few months. His skin had that pinched, sallow look I hadn’t seen since our days working together on the case, it made my chest feel uncomfortably tight.

Before I could correct my faux pas he tossed a parchment on the table in front of me. “What’s this?”

A sneer settled onto his features as he muttered, “My great aunt Tituba’s dandelion wine recipe. What do you bloody well think it is, Lupin?”

I gripped the parchment in suddenly unsteady hands and unfurled it to reveal a detailed schematic of the Arch and Veil. My eyes widened as I took in the full extent of the information he’d managed to acquire. “Where? How?”

“I called in a few debts,” Severus returned wearily, pulling out a chair and falling into it gracelessly. “The Arithmancy is quite advanced but I suspect between the two of us we can work out the basics. I have a few theories already but I’d like you to double check the figures.”

“But Severus…” I felt as if my brain was diligently slogging its way through warm syrup. “If you called in old debts then someone knows you’re alive, they might turn you in to the Aurors!”

“My…acquaintances are extremely unlikely to turn to legal channels should they wish to enact vengeance upon me.” He folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. “Give me some credit, Lupin, I’m a Slytherin. While the other Houses were busy playing Exploding Snap and enacting brainless pranks on one another, we Slytherins spent our time practicing the fine arts of extortion, bribery, and coercion. I know precisely what I’m doing, I won’t be turned in to the Ministry, and I have acquired the information you desired. I should think a simple ‘thank you’ wouldn’t be too much to ask.”

“Thank you, Severus. I’m very grateful, but that doesn’t stop me being worried about the risks you’re taking.”

He shrugged rather carelessly and seemed to find the tabletop absolutely fascinating. “Be that as it may, I presume you’ll wish to begin this…endeavor as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” I hummed in response, my eyes already raking over the figures hovering beside the slowly spinning image of the Arch. I tapped the picture with my wand and drew my hand up, the Arch schematic followed obediently and I studied the underside of the device. It was absolutely fascinating, but some of the notations made very little sense to me. “Severus, there are several references to ‘the Gloom’, do you have the foggiest what that might mean?”

Snape’s eyes closed and he massaged the bridge of his nose wearily. “It’s an Eastern concept. The wizards of the Slavic countries that don’t subscribe to Western Hermetic traditions have a very different understanding of magic. I’m sure you’ve done some reading on alternate magical theory.”

“Some, yes,” I admitted, “but I don’t recall encountering this particular term before.”

“I’m far too tired to give you a full dissertation on the subject, but in its simplest form, the Gloom refers to a separate magical plane. In our tradition we pass through the Gloom instantaneously when we Apparate from one location to another. Eastern wizards have a different relationship with the realm, they spend a great deal more time there and have studied it rather extensively.” He leaned back in the chair, and gazed at the parchment between us with the oddest combination of fascination and dread. “There are multiple levels to the Gloom, some quite benign…some less so. Additionally, a few have theorized that at least one of those levels is a sort of soul depository; a wizard heaven, if you will.”

“Have you ever been there, I mean for more than a second or two.”

The lines of his face seemed deeper and more profound as he murmured, “Yes, on a few occasions. Karkaroff introduced me to several of the Eastern magical practices shortly after I graduated. He introduced me…to a great many things that summer.”

I watched his expression carefully, but he very deliberately refused to meet my eyes. “That was,” I paused and cleared my throat. “You were a Death Eater at the time.”

It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t bother to treat it as one. Abruptly he stood and said, “I’m weary. I’m going to bed. I would recommend procuring a copy of ‘Eastern Mysticism and Magic’ by Zebnez, third edition or later. When you’ve had a chance to study it we can discuss the Arithmantic aspect of the process.”

“Severus,” I said softly, reaching out for his hand. 

When I tried to pull him closer he stiffened and jerked free. “I’m tired, Remus. I need…I’m going to bed.” Without another word he turned and left the kitchen. 

I thought I showed incredible restraint in allowing Severus to sleep for a solid ten hours before waking him for breakfast and a slew of questions regarding the Arch and the vagaries of that realm known only as the Gloom. He ate sporadically and answered as best he could given his own passing familiarity with it. Digging out every Arithamancy text I could lay my hands on we began pouring over the complex magical engineering that had gone into the device.

Both of us were propped up against the headboard of our shared bed passing books back and forth for hours before I said, “If I’m understanding this correctly, and that is a powerful ‘if’, there doesn’t exist a level of the Gloom that can’t theoretically be reached.”

“That is also my understanding,” he concurred, rubbing his tired eyes. “The question is one of power alone. What we’re proposing is the equivalent of trying to kick in the main vault at Gringott’s. And that is a very generous metaphor. The door, if you will, that the Arch acts as is built to open in only one direction. Attempting to force it in the other might destroy it in the best case scenario or kill us and everyone else in the Ministry in the worst.”

I glanced at my own computations and nodded glumly. Still I wasn’t quite ready to give up just yet. “What if…what if we’re going about this the wrong way?”

“How so?”

“Our plan so far was to work out a way to basically force the Arch to release Sirius.” He nodded so I continued, “But the Arch is really just a one way entry to the Gloom, there’s no guarantee Sirius would be anywhere near that door even if we did open it. But the Gloom is, at least in theory, all around us right now. We’d just need sufficient power to give us access to the right level.”

Severus went very still like a hunting cat zeroing in on its prey. “Or,” he murmured thoughtfully, “a way to lead Sirius back to a level we can reach. It requires tremendous power to travel to a deep level of the Gloom but relatively little to work your way back from one.”

“Do you really think we could?”

“It’s possible, very possible.”

“But how do we get a message to him?”

This time Severus actually allowed himself a thin smile. “I believe for that a trip to the Hall of Mysteries will be in order.”


	5. Chapter 5

I will own up to shamelessly making use of my new-found celebrity to finagle a bit of time for myself in the Department of Mysteries. “Research” is such a useful word for a writer. It’s delightfully vague and yet carries a world of meaning to the person hearing it. A world they could fully construct and I merely people it with enigmatic smiles and the occasional innuendo. “Really can’t go into it, you know, all very hush-hush,” and “I’ll see to it you receive a signed copy on the day it’s released” are my two favorites. You’d be appalled at just how much those two innocuous phrases can make available to me. I certainly was.

I planted myself comfortably in one of the crowded rows of prophecies. Of course I had no use for any of them as none were intended for me, at least none that I was aware of, so I pulled out a notebook and started jotting down random notes. I wrote about my impressions, my hopes regarding Sirius and my own theories on the Arch. I needed to remain until the vast majority of employees had departed. Special dispensation from the Minister made it simply a matter of patience, and I excelled at patience.

My history as a Ministry employee served me well, as I made my way up to the Atrium. I waited at the base of the lift and waited, tapping my foot and hoping the Auror security detail in the building hadn’t suddenly decided to change its centuries old schedule. Of course this sent images of Severus being captured and hauled away as he unwittingly walked directly into a trap spinning around my mind.

Anxiety climbing with each passing second, I all but leapt out of my skin when a familiar voice called out, “Remus!”

Of all the people to be working late, and on all the days, “Dora,” I all but choked, “what are you doing here?”

She bounded up in a flurry of black robes and lavender hair. As she made a motion to throw her arms around me her wand flew out of her arm holster and skittered across the marble flooring then clinked sadly to a stop at the foot of the fountain. “Bugger!” she growled, tramping after it. Wand and dignity retrieved, Dora stomped back and blew a now scarlet lock of her shoulder-length hair from her face. “Sorry.”

I gave her a nerve-addled smile and glanced at the lift, it hadn’t started down yet, thank the merciful fates. “Oh, uh, no worries,” I stammered.

“To answer your question,” she returned, “I’m waiting for Arthur to finish up. It’s family dinner night.”

“Part of the ‘family’ then, are we?” I immediately regretted the words and silently chalked them up to my rattled composure.

She visibly wilted. “Well…I mean they’ve always…”

I waved my hand jerkily and muttered, “Ignore me, I’m just…it’s stress.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re a big star now.” Her smile was heartbreakingly tentative.

“I suppose so.”

An uncomfortable silence descended between us and I let my eyes slide time and again to the lift. Dora, bless her complete inability to interpret my thoughts, drew an obvious and incorrect assumption and blurted, “I s’pose you’ve got things to do. I should let you get back to them. Come get me the next time you stop by and we’ll have lunch or something.” She smiled a bit more brightly and lay an affectionate hand on my arm. “I’m glad you’re doing so well, Remus. You look fantastic, success agrees with you.”

Startled I could only nod dumbly for a few seconds. “Thanks.”

She turned to leave and I sagged with relief. I had little time to enjoy it, however, as she spun back around and said, “So I heard you’re seeing someone then.”

I blinked, my brain screaming out a warning, but my body too numb to respond with more than a wobbly, “Hmm?”

“In the Tattler I read…I mean I don’t believe everything they print, of course, but well…they said you’d been seeing someone.”

Glancing at the now descending lift I drew a sharp breath, but managed to say in a nearly normal tone, “I…yes, I suppose I am.” ‘And it’s just my miserable luck that you’re about to meet him,’ I added silently.

Her eyes went round and wide. “Oh. Oh, I mean that’s…that’s wonderful. Good for you.” Her expression was as complicated as I’d ever seen it, but I had no time to decipher it. “I’d love to meet her.”

My mouth opened and shut wordlessly as my mind snapped back to Neville’s boggart quite unbidden. I bit my tongue to keep myself from bursting into hysterical laughter. “Him, actually. And he has a rather busy schedule.”

“Oh.” She was looking at me as if we’d just met for the first time. This wasn’t the Remus she’d once thought she knew, once thought she’d loved. “I…oh. That’s…”

I cut her off as the lift neared, “Tell you what, I’ll floo you in a few days and we can catch up. But I really must…” I gestured to the lift helplessly.  
“Of course, that’d be fantastic. I’ll um, I’ll talk to you then.”

I waved and managed a meager smile as she turned and ambled off into the cavernous darkness of the Ministry. The lift doors opened and to my astonishment a small, dark-haired, ferret-faced man exited, took me peremptorily by the elbow and began leading me away. “Honestly, Remus,” he muttered in an unfamiliar voice, but an all too recognizable tone, “you didn’t expect me to waltz into the Ministry undisguised, did you?” He paused and studied me with muddy-brown eeyes, “What’s wrong? You look as if you might pass out. Should I have brought along my smelling salts?”

I yanked my elbow away. “Ha, bloody ha.”

We made our way down from the Atrium via one of the lifts and after what seemed an eternity found ourselves in the main hall. Severus, of course, walked down the bare hallway as if he’d done so a thousand times before. He paused before touching the door to lean awkwardly against one of the walls. I moved closer in alarm, then noted it was simply the Polyjuice Potion wearing off as his features melted and transfigured themselves into a more familiar pattern.

I breathed a quick sigh of relief and glanced guiltily back down the corridor. So far we’d avoided both officials and Unspeakables, but how long could our luck hold? I plucked open the door and gazed around quickly, the circular room was blessedly empty. “Come on,” I muttered, hurrying us both inside. As soon as the door shut behind us the room’s wall spun dizzyingly, after a few seconds the 12 doors slowed and then clicked into place.  
Severus drew himself up and away from my grip, his strength and certainty suddenly returned to him, and moved confidently to the door directly across from where we stood and to the left. It opened with a gentle push and he directed me to move ahead of him to confirm it was quite deserted. I looked at the cavernous space with no little trepidation. I remembered my last visit all too well. With a nod I indicated that it was quite empty and we both entered quickly, shutting the door firmly behind us.

The dimly lit space echoed with soft, whispered voices. I couldn’t make out what any of them said, nor could I identify them, and some part of me was intensely relieved by that. Glancing at Severus I noted he too seemed somber and disturbed. We passed by the stone benches lining the entry level and made our way down into the steep steps of the Death Chamber. As we approached the Arch the tattered remnant of the Veil shifted restlessly and the voices murmured with increasing intensity. Were they warning us away or beckoning us closer? It was impossible to tell.

“You’re certain we’ll be undisturbed?” Severus asked, pulling a small pouch from an inner pocket of his now far too short robes. From within he produced a small desk, two chairs and an impressive pile of books.

“As certain as I can be,” I returned a big saucily, “I didn’t know we were setting up house.”

“First rule of potion mastery, preparation is everything.” He bustled about, unfurling sheafs of parchment and creating a perfectly usable workspace on the large altar holding the Arch. I caught my breath several times as he came all too close to the bloody thing for my liking. If he noticed he gave no sign. “You know what you have to do?”

“I think so.” It would have been far more accurate to say ‘I hope so’, but I didn’t relish another lecture. Severus had regaled me for hours on the elements of our little expedition in such detail as to set my teeth on edge. “I’m only sending my Patronus, after all, not stepping through myself.”

He went very still, “And if you lost your Patronus, what then?” Before I could answer he growled, “You don’t know, no one is certain. We know the spell is intimately associated with the caster’s soul, but very few wizards have lost theirs and lived to tell the tale. Those that have are never quite the same.”

“Hardly the sort of pep talk to inspire one, is it?”

He frowned. “I don’t want to inspire you, I’m hoping to perhaps clear through those redolent layers of Gryffindor bravado and instill just a hint of common sense.” Pausing, he met my eyes quite seriously. “You needn’t do this, I can…”

“You’d never find him, Severus, we both know it. I have to do this. Besides,” I shrugged carelessly, “It’s just a reconnaissance mission, I won’t come to any harm.”

Severus shook himself and muttered, “Of course, of course you won’t.”

Interestingly I had very little fear for my own well being. How much of that could be contributed to my past and to my nature I couldn’t say. One thing I was certain of, however, was that the idea of sitting around uselessly whilst Severus sent his own Patronus into the Arch and then having no idea what to do should he be unable to withdraw it, filled me with an astonishing amount of dread. That realization made me shift uncomfortably. “When can we start?”

He glanced at me briefly before returning to his preparations. “Soon. You may choose the memory you intend to use to summon your Patronus. Remember, it must be…intimately linked to Black if this is to work.”

I nodded. “I was thinking I’d use…”

He forestalled me with a glower. “You needn’t share it with me. Indeed I’d be very obliged if you didn’t. Just hold the memory and emotions in your mind and prepare yourself.”

With a smile I relaxed slightly, this at least was as familiar to me as the plush coziness of my favorite robe. I’d never had the slightest difficulty producing a Patronus and I didn’t expect to presently. I slipped my hands in my pocket and grasped my wand tightly, all too eager to begin.  
Severus gazed around himself one last time as if hoping to discover some impediment to our undertaking. When none produced itself he wilted ever so slightly and muttered, “I suppose we might just as well begin this foolishness.” He drew his own wand and began tracing a fine ruinic circle about the Arch. A fine golden mist drew intricate Arithmantic patterns on the stone dias and the whispering voices from behind the Veil hissed with surprise…and some other emotion I couldn’t quite place. Longing, perhaps, or hunger, I wasn’t entirely sure.

When he’d completed his work, binding the spell with a final burst of energy, he moved towards me. “This should hold but there are no guarantees. You must guide your Patronus to him and follow the path there and back again. The Gloom will try to trick you it…hungers…” His voice trailed off and there was very real misery in his eyes. “Follow your heart to Black, but follow the path back to me. Do not deviate, do not linger.”

“I understand, Severus.”

“No,” he replied softly, “you don’t but you soon will. Treat the Gloom as you would Moony.”

“You speak as if it’s a conscious living thing.”

“To some degree I suppose it is. It contains terrible magics and untold millions of souls. Together they may well have created some form of sentience.” He wiped a hand wearily over his face then looked at me seriously. “I remind you that it’s not too late, we can leave now and no one need risk themselves on what is likely to be a hopeless gesture.”

“I’m sorry, Severus.” And I truly was, for I could see just how frightened he was on my behalf. “Where should I stand?”

He shook his head and gestured ill-temperedly at a brightly glowing ruin just before the mouth of the Arch. “There. Remember it must be a memory tied to Black.”

I smiled and thought of the giddy reunion with Sirius at Hogwarts, my realization that my dearest friend had been wrongly accused, my love as I embraced him for the first time in too many years. “Expecto patronum!”

Magic flooded out of me like rushing water, bright and powerful and joyous. A large silver wolf gamboled before me eager to do my bidding. I spared a glance at Severus who looked positively ill. He kept his eyes on my face and called, “Control it, too much power and you’ll bring the entirety of the Gloom down upon you. Leash it, use your will not just your heart.”

I pushed the memory back a bit, tempering my emotions as if I were turning down the volume of a radio. My mind cleared a bit and my Patronus stilled, looking a bit more opaque. “Better?”

“Decidedly. You’ll have to force it through the Arch. Be prepared, I doubt it will go at all willingly.”

That, as it happened, was the understatement of the century. Every time I attempted to command my Patronus to enter the Arch it shied and danced about nervously. Repeated attempts could force it no nearer than a foot from the entrance. Frustrated I pointed my wand directly into the Arch’s inky depths and bellowed, “Go!”

My Patronus immediately vanished like a whisp of fog on a sunny day. I groaned and gazed at Severus who merely shrugged. “Get it sorted, we haven’t got all night.”

“What would you recommend I try next? Perhaps I should have brought a chew toy along to throw into…” My words ground to a halt with the expression on Severus’ face. “What?”

“How else do you coerce a dog to do as you wish?” My blank stare didn’t deter him from his excitement over the answer presenting itself like a gift with a neatly tied bow. “You entice it. Forget my earlier admonitions, use your heart, show it that what you…love…most is just beyond the Veil. It’s you, your soul, it will seek out your deepest desire.” His voice had lost its enthusiasm as he finished, “It has no choice.”

I nodded and drew every positive memory of Sirius up from the back corners of my mind. His first furtive smile, then later his wicked laugh. The gleam in his dark eyes at the start of a new prank. The flush of joy after his first successful Animagus transformation. The tears when I greeted him in the Shack, having finally realized the truth. ‘He needs me,’ I thought, filling my heart with all the love and desperation I could muster. ‘My oldest, dearest friend is just on the other side of that Veil and I have to save him. Only I can do this. I can’t fail.’

My Patronus whirled around me, rising as high as my head before sinking back down so that its ethereal paws nearly touched the earth. With one last, long look it leapt full-speed into the Arch.

I nearly lost my footing and concentration as the breath rushed out of me. My heart gave an unsteady thump and my head spun dangerously. Dizzy, but still in control, I gripped the table and felt a warm, damp hand on my left arm. “Don’t lose it in there, guide it, just as if you were sending me a message on the far side of the earth. It will find him if you can keep it from becoming distracted.”

I felt as if I were a young boy desperately clutching a kite string in a violent windstorm. The jerks and tugs, however, seemed to emanate from beneath my ribcage, and I clutched my chest as if to add some further sense of control. ‘Find Sirius,’ I chanted silently, ‘I must find Sirius.’

The jerking sensation changed abruptly to that of a steady forward tug, quite like that of an excited terrier on the end of a leash. “I think,” my voice sounded miles away, “I think he’s close.” The connection to my Patronus was steady now, infused with hope and purpose.

My left arm was squeezed again, this time with a bit more urgency. “You have ten more minutes and then you must withdraw, do you understand?”

Suffice to say I didn’t. “No! No, I can do this, I’m so close!”

“Close or not you’re to withdraw when I bloody well say.” When I didn’t respond he growled, “The Gloom knows you’re there, can’t you feel it?”

Truth be told I did feel something, a prickly feeling as if ants were marching in chaotic patterns over my entire body. But more than that was the weakness slowly washing over me. It reminded me of every post-full moon morning when just levering myself up off the floor seemed a monumental task. It was draining me by the second. Far from terrifying me it gave me the impetus to keep going and to drag Sirius if need be from the awful place.

“Remus,” Severus’ voice sounded increasingly distant and unimportant, “do you have him?”

‘So close,’ my soul chanted, at least I thought it came from me. But the whispering voices were rising, at once enticing and threatening. They were indeed aware of me, aware and intrigued. I no longer heard them like a child listening to the ocean in a seashell, now the voices sounded like the increasing roar of an oncoming tornado. The louder they became the more certain I was that they would sweep me away with them. My body leaned willingly toward the Arch and for just a moment I longed for it, to be one with the power I sensed so close at hand I could reach out and touch it.  
If Severus tried to reach me I was unaware, my senses filled with the glory that lay just beyond the Veil. ‘Is this what Sirius felt in that last moment before he tumbled inside?’ That thought alone helped clear my mind. I dragged my reticent thoughts back to the task at hand. ‘Sirius!’ I pulled away from the Arch and did my best to focus. Exhausted or no I’d find him and guide him back to this world, and no power from any other would stop me.

With an almost painful final tug my Patronus seemed to come to a halt and I felt as giddy a sense of accomplishment as I’ve ever known. “I’ve found him! I have him!”

I could no longer hear Severus but I could sense him moving around me, putting the next phase of our plan into action. Though I couldn’t aid him I knew precisely what I needed to do. ‘Come home,’ I called out with all of my heart and soul, ‘follow me home!’

Infinitely slowly I felt my Patronus draw towards me. The satisfaction remained as powerful as before, so I could only assume Sirius was following it to me. I reeled both to myself like an expert angler, gently but firmly; though every instinct was screaming at me to pull with all my remaining strength I resisted. I couldn’t let myself lose him simply because I was tired and impatient. There was no guarantee I’d ever find him again in the depths of the Gloom.

I felt something vaguely through the haze of fatigue and the bellowing rush of voices filling my ears and mind. It was a flask pressed to my lips. My body swallowed automatically and I immediately felt my body flush with energy and life. Bless Severus for his preternatural ability to foresee precisely what I’d need in any situation far better than I’d ever managed. I promised myself I’d thank him properly when we had Sirius safely back on our side of the Arch. 

“Just a little farther,” I panted, “a little farther.”

Despite the potion I was beginning to wilt once more, the Gloom seemed determined to exact a profound toll before it deigned to release Sirius from its prison. I wouldn’t given in, no matter how weak I became, I determined to hang on. That was, of course, when we stopped making progress so abruptly I all but fell on my ass.

“No,” I cried, grabbing the table once more for balance, “no don’t stop, not now!”

I sensed Severus in motion around me once more but spared him no more than a passing thought. I was focused, mind, body and soul on my struggle with the Gloom. “Sirius, don’t give up now, we’re so close!”

With a suddenness that completely took my breath away, I felt the connection between myself and Sirius snap like an over-strained rubber band. My Patronus all but flew towards me at appalling speed. As it passed once more through the Veil I came back to myself in time to watch it dissipate and I screamed, “What? No!”

Severus gripped me by the shoulders and shouted, “Get a hold of yourself!”

“I lost him! Severus, I almost had him! He’s so close!”

“Yes,” he muttered, his dark eyes meeting mine with an intensity that cut my hysterics short. “He’s close enough now, all we need do is cross into the Gloom and fetch him.”

“Are you sure?”

Severus nodded, releasing me and drawing his wand once more. He handed me the flask I presume he’d used on me earlier and I gratefully took a sip. The potion had a faintly fruity flavor. It reminded me of summer blackberries, freshly picked, and I savored both its sweetness and the glorious rush of strength it returned to me. I straightened and allowed myself a deep, clarifying breath. “I’ll go in for him,” I said grimly as I rolled up my sleeves and popped a square of milk chocolate in my mouth. I had the feeling I’d need it.

“No,” Severus replied softly, “you won’t.”

I knew precisely what he was thinking and was having none of it. “I have to, Severus, you know that. He won’t come to you.”

“Which is why you will be sending your Patronus back through the Arch again carrying a message that he must trust me.”

“Severus I’m not prepared to just stand here like a ninny while you risk your life to save a man you hate.”

“I’m risking my life to save a man you love.”

“I don’t see any difference!” I grumbled in annoyance.

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to.” His expression was grave but determined. “Be reasonable, I’m the only one with the requisite knowledge and experience to do this. If something should go wrong I’ll be able to extricate myself far more easily than you could.”

“But…”

“You know I’m right, you’re just being contentious.”

“No, I’m worried,” I muttered, arms folded crossly. “There’s a very real difference. I’m also completely bloody tired of you being right all the time. It’s your most annoying habit you know.”

He simply smiled in return. “Now if you’re quite finished being a prat we should really conclude the evening’s festivities before we’re discovered.” 

Severus stepped down from the dais and just below one of the torches that ringed the outer wall. I started at him, puzzled, then watched as he drew his wand arm up, pulling his shadow along in its wake. With a final look at me he said, “Cast the Patronus and send it through. I’ll need a guide and he’ll need some reason to trust me. It shouldn’t be quite so difficult this time, but if you should run into any trouble…”

“You worry about yourself, I can handle this.”

He gave me a dubious look then shrugged and stepped directly into his shadow, disappearing from sight. I caught my breath, then hurriedly cried, “Expecto patronum!”

My Patronus appeared once more, though a bit more diaphanous than before, and I gestured toward the Arch. “Go to Sirius!”

The silvery wolf circled me once before throwing itself without a moment’s hesitation beyond the Veil. It was easier this time, in part I expect because Sirius was on a higher, more accessible level of the Gloom. It had Sirius’ ‘scent’, so to speak, and sped toward him with a certainty I found exhilarating. This time when it came to an abrupt halt I was ready.

I called up every ounce of compassion and love in my soul and flung it out from myself towards my dearest friend. I felt suffused with light, a beacon not even the eternal darkness of the Gloom could extinguish. The voices howled about me, this time with alarm and anger. They no longer wanted to draw me in, rather to thrust me away as if I were some noxious infection to be rooted out.

I clung to my link with both my Patronus and Sirius with desperation, drawing them both back to me with every fiber of my being. “Come home, come home!”

As if answering my call both moved closer and closer to me and despite my weariness I couldn’t contain the wave of elation that filled me. “We’re doing it, come on, we’re doing it!”

Before I even knew what was happening my Patronus burst back through the Veil and pranced around me like an overenthusiastic puppy. I waited, breathless for Severus and Sirius to follow, but nothing happened. “Sirius?” All was silence. “Severus!”

An angry buzzing from behind me made me whirl in astonishment. Once again a shadow stretched up along the wall beneath the torch and as I watched, Severus staggered out from within it dragging an all too familiar body along with him. I all but ran to them just as Severus quite unceremoniously dropped Sirius onto the floor in a heap. Severus leaned heavily against the wall, pale and panting as if he’d run a marathon. He gestured weakly and banished the shadow to its normal flickering form. The buzzing sound I’d heard disappeared just as abruptly.

I dropped to the floor, pulling Sirius into my lap and then hugging him tightly to my chest. “We did it, we did it.” He lay limp and all but lifeless against me, with no more volition than a rag doll. Looking up at Severus I found him staring at me with something akin to sympathy in his eyes. “We did it.”

“Remus,” he began patiently.

I cut him off, “He’s back, we did it, he’ll be all right now.” Pulling Sirius even closer I dared Severus to deny me. “He’ll be all right.” 

“Remus,” his voice held a steely edge this time, “You need to take him to St. Mungo’s as soon as possible.”

I gazed down at Sirius, his face slack, gaunt and ghostly pale lay against my chest. It was only then that I noticed his dark eyes were open and utterly vacant. “Sirius?”

“St. Mungo’s, Remus. I can’t go with you, when I’m gone call for an Unspeakable and they’ll assist you. Tell them you came to the Death Chamber to remember your good friend and found him here, say nothing else until we’ve had a chance to talk. Do you hear me?” I must have nodded for he continued, “Give me a ten minute head start, I’ll clear up our things and exit the Ministry. We’ll meet at Spinner’s End.”

“Y-yes, Severus,” I managed, then pulled Sirius close once more and simply rocked him gently from side to side.

As Severus departed I tried once more to reach my friend, “Sirius?”

And that was when he began to scream.


	6. Chapter 6

I sat beside Sirius’ bed staring at his gaunt, heavily lined face and wondered yet again where the careless, thoughtless boy I’d known had gone. I’d had time, of course, after he escaped Azkaban and rejoined the Order, to become accustomed to the changes the years had wrought on him. And yet, I found myself staring at his face as if it were that of a stranger.

With his eyes closed I could almost forget the madness lurking behind them.

Heavy footfalls that skidded to a stop at the door caught my attention. I looked up to see a flustered and obviously windblown Harry Potter. His bright green eyes zeroed in on Sirius immediately and his normally tanned face paled. He tore his gaze away long enough to give me an astonished look. “How…?”

“It’s a long story, Harry,” I returned with a gentle smile, gesturing him into the room. 

I barely recognized the athletic young man who perched so carefully on the opposite edge of the bed. Gone was the awkward boy who’d looked to me as his last hope against the Dementors, and in his place was the superstar of the Wizarding world. The captain and Seeker of Puddlemere United looked a great deal less glamorous under St. Mungo’s harsh lighting; or perhaps it was the lack of his sleek, alabaster better half that had dulled his almost habitual, otherworldly glow.

“Where did you dig him up?”

I sighed at the sound of the all too familiar reedy sneer from the doorway. I should’ve known better, Malfoy had become Harry’s iridescent shadow. “Draco,” I said as mildly as I could manage, “how lovely to see you again.”

He leaned in the doorway as if posing for the cover of Quidditch Weekly, all feline grace and pureblood snobbery. “Of course it is,” he muttered, closely examining his immaculate fingernails. “I mean we got on so well back at Hogwarts and we’ve been such fast friends since.”

Harry tore his eyes away from his beloved godfather long enough to settle a stern look on his paramour. “Draco, don’t make me rethink accepting a few of the nightly offers from the Quaffle Bunnies.”

Malfoy merely rolled his eyes and folded his slender, well-muscled arms with a put upon huff. 

“Sorry, we had a late game in Wales and I caught the Snitch before he’d had a chance to sufficiently impress the color commentators with his athleticism,” Harry intoned mock seriously, his emerald eyes practically glowing with good humor.

“Far be it from me to begrudge you your incessant need to retain the spotlight. I mean we can’t all be the Boy Who Bloody Well Lived, now can we?”

“I promise we’ll work on getting you a nice descriptive moniker as soon as the season’s over.”

Draco merely responded with an utterly vulgar gesture that looked oddly inappropriate given his delicate, aristocratic hands. Harry chuckled and returned his attention to Sirius. He reached out tentatively and brushed one dark lock from the man’s pale brow. “How, Remus, how is this possible?”

I rubbed a hand wearily over my face and replied, “I won’t go into the details as they involve a level of Arithmancy that, to be quite honest, I’m not sure I even fully understand. But suffice to say that the Arch and Veil are simply magical devices like any other; complex, yes, dangerous, to be sure, but manageable if you have a basic understanding of the theory underlying it.” I leaned back in my chair and let my own eyes drop to Sirius’ twitching hand. I grasped it without a second thought, and it stilled abruptly.

“It’s a dark artifact.” Draco’s words were clipped and as sharp as broken glass. 

“Yes.” There was no sense in denying the fact. “Yes it is.”

“So where did you get the information about it that you clearly used to free Black? It’s not the sort of thing you’d find in the restricted section at Hogwarts.”

I couldn’t argue with that either, so I did something that had become nearly second nature to me throughout my life, I gently modified the truth to suit my needs. “A very old and trusted friend of mine was able to track down the research I needed and he assisted me with the spell that allowed us to part the Veil.”

Pale blue eyes studied me with alarming clarity and thoroughness. He knew there was a great deal I was leaving unsaid, a member of any family as steeped in the Dark Arts as his would be well aware of the lengths necessary to take the steps I had. Possibly even better versed than I was, to be honest, and I’d actually taught Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed all too willing to simply shrug off the rather obvious holes in my story. “This is brilliant, Remus, absolutely brilliant! Is he…ok?”

I bit my lower lip and found it difficult to meet his eyes. “Harry, you must understand that Sirius spent several years trapped in another plane of existence…”

“Not to mention the fact that he was a few Knuts short of a Galleon to start,” Draco drawled, clearly uncomfortable at being ignored for even a second or two.

Before Harry could respond I said softly, “He has a point. Azkaban effected Sirius, Harry. He…he wasn’t entirely…stable after he rejoined us.”  
“What are you saying?”

‘Oh Harry,’ I thought miserably, ‘don’t make me spell this out for you.’

“He’s saying Black is mad.” Draco’s gaze dared me to deny it.

“Is that what you’re saying, Remus?”

“I’m saying he’s ill, Harry, which is why he’s here in St. Mungo’s. They’ll…they’ll be able to help him here.”

“Help him?” Potter’s expression hardened. “You mean like they’ve helped Neville’s parents?”

“Harry…” I began cautiously.

“And what do you propose, Harry?” Draco launched himself away from the doorframe, all pretense of disinterest abandoned. “Shall we take him home and leash him in the garden? Perhaps he could follow us around from stadium to stadium, drooling on our brooms and pissing on our equipment, wouldn’t that be delightful?”

“Enough, Malfoy,” Harry snarled, causing Draco to flinch. “He’s my godfather, he’s family; don’t you get that?”

“Yes, yes, please do launch into the tragic tale of your life as an orphan, I never tire of hearing about it. Or reading about it. Or listening to other people yammer on about it. Really it’s the highlight of my day.” Malfoy sighed, stepped closer, and took Harry by the shoulders before the other man could respond. “Would you please try to be practical just this once? Black is deranged, and that’s not going to change simply because The Boy Who Lived wills it so. As impressive as your magical talents are, they have limits. You can’t wave your wand and fix this.”

“There has to be something I can do,” Harry returned mulishly. His green eyes strayed back to the all too frail body of his godfather.

“There is, Harry,” I said quietly, “ you can let the medi-wizards and witches do their jobs and try their best to help him. Beyond that you can visit him, talk to him, try to draw him back to this world and those who love him.” They were good words, true words, but I couldn’t say they made me feel any better than poor Harry. “Could you stay with him for a few hours. I need to go home,” I gestured to my rumpled clothing and smiled apologetically. “Just a quick shower and a bite to eat.”

“Of course, Remus, take your time,” he assured me softly. Draco sighed with annoyance but refrained from comment.


	7. Chapter 7

I was quite literally ready to drop by the time I reached Spinner’s End. The exhaustion of our rescue efforts combined with the mental toll of Sirius’ condition left me in dire need of at least eight hours of sleep. Not that I’d be likely to get anywhere near as much, my mind would be far too busy replaying the day’s whirlwind of events. Still, I was determined to at least try to rest.

Sighing, I unlocked the front door and made my way onto the sitting room sofa. It was a tactical error to be sure, as I’d never manage to drag myself up the stairs to bed once my body settled in. My legs, however, seemed to have a mind of their own and before I knew it I was stretched out with my head on a throw pillow.

“You’ll get an awful crick like that,” Severus’ voice was oddly soothing for all he startled me half to death. He was curled up in the chair nearest the fire reading with a mug of his tea in his right hand.

“Mmm,” was the sum total of my reply.

He made an annoyed sound then stood. I heard him pad to my side before my head was lifted and my pillow rearranged to his satisfaction. He then spread a throw over me and gently removed my shoes. After a quick Scourgify, which left me blissfully clean and comfortable he asked, “Have you eaten?”

“Not hungry.”

He snorted derisively. “Right. I’ll just make you a sandwich then. I’ll leave it under a stasis spell until you wake.

“You’re wonderful,” I crooned, “D’you know that?”

“Indeed, I believe I’ve been trying to impress that upon you for the better part of the past twenty five years.”

I smiled, then remembered to ask, “Oh, did you put out some kibble for Whimsy?”

“Yes I fed the wretched beast, though Merlin only knows why since there are entire extended rodent families living in ancestral estates in practically every wall of this house. If he can’t be bothered to catch them and at least make some vague attempt to earn his keep…”

“Thank you, Severus.” I’d heard this particular sermon more times than I’d cared to already.

He stood over me silently for several long seconds. I could feel his eyes on me and it was honestly a bit unnerving. I cracked one eye open to find his expression unguarded. I had the strangest sense that had I attempted Legilimency on him I’d have been privy to the very depths of his soul in that moment. “What?” I finally asked.

“Do you…do you have what you want now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you happy?”

“You mean right now?” I opened my other eye to get a better look at him. “What I am at the moment is bloody exhausted."

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I want to know if you are happy now that you have Black once more.”

“I’ll be a damned site happier when we can heal his mind but…yes, I’m very glad to have my best friend back.”

He pondered that for a moment. “Then I’ve done the right thing.”

“Of course you did. Without you he’d still be trapped in that hellish realm.”

“I didn’t mean…” he stopped abruptly and shook his head. “I’ve made a dog’s breakfast of this.”

I peered at him shrewdly. “Are you feeling all right?”

He sighed and tucked the throw up under my chin. “Get some rest.” When I continued to stare at him he muttered, “Just know everything I did was for you, only you. And if you are happy now then I’m content.”

“That’s…good to know. Perhaps you’d better have a lie down as well.”

Smiling tightly he replied, “I have a few things to do, I’ll try to be as quiet as possible.”

I settled back into the cushions. “Don’t worry, I’ll soon be dead to the world.” My eyelids had already drooped shut and my limbs felt ever so far away.  
Just before I dropped off completely I felt his warm lips brush my forehead and I could have sworn he whispered, “Be happy, my love.”

**

I found myself trapped in the oddest dream. Severus and I were back in the Death Chamber standing before the Arch. I glanced over at him and he said, “This won’t end well.”

“You’re wrong,” I replied, secure in the knowledge that it would. “We’ll save him.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he sighed morosely.

I became aware then of a low level hum. It wasn’t mechanical, nor magical rather an organic, almost primal sound. I gazed around to discover I was no longer in the Chamber, nor even the Ministry, I was surrounded by some horrible bog. The sky was a filthy gray, like a dishrag left to mildew. Beneath it all the verdant swamp teemed with both life and decay and I almost found myself missing the Chamber. Just a few feet away Severus seemed to be standing in a soupy puddle. He was up to his knees in muck but was apparently completely unconcerned.

So was I, at first, then I realized he was sinking. “Severus get out of there, it’s quicksand!”

“I told you, didn’t I?” he returned with disinterest, which only increased my own dismay. “It just couldn’t end well.”

“Severus!” I screamed searching wildly for my wand. Unable to locate it I began to move towards him only to find my own legs immobilized. I looked down in shock to find Sirius, gaunt and disheveled in his tattered Azkaban uniform clinging to me tightly.

I attempted to dislodge him gently but he only held on more firmly. Grinning up at me, his face suffused with manic joy, he cried, “It’s all right I’ve got you!’

“No.” I began to struggle in earnest. “Let me go, I have to save him!”

“Why? It’s just Snivellus.”

“Let me go, Sirius!”

“It’s too late,” Severus muttered, now up to his neck in the mire. “What’s done is done.”

“No!” I screamed in horror, attempting to throw myself at him as the whine grew to nearly deafening proportions. “Severus!” My voice was swallowed whole by the ravenous cacophony buzzing all around us.

He merely shook his head once before disappearing beneath the murky surface.

I jolted awake with a terrified gasp. Oddly though, the menacing buzz I’d taken for a swarm of ravenous mosquitoes in the dream seemed to have followed me into the waking world. I desperately wiped the sleep from my eyes and attempted to discover its source.

It didn’t take me long as one wall of bookcases was swallowed whole by the same darkness I’d seen Severus summon in the Death Chamber. Severus stood before it as if contemplating which snack to remove from the icebox. My gasp drew his attention and he turned his head slightly. “You’ve always had the most annoying bloody timing.”

“Severus?”

“I’m going now, Remus.”

“What? Where? Why?”

“I’ve a debt to pay.”

I stood shakily, my brain still too sleep fogged to be of much use to me. “What do you mean?”

He smiled at me, not mockingly nor condescendingly, but simply and sadly. It was a smile I and I alone would ever see. “You’ll be all right.”

“When will you be back?”

Turning away again to face the darkness he replied, “I may be some time.”

Alarm was quickly clearing away the fog from my addled mind. “Severus, wait!”

“You’ll be all right now. After all you have what you want.”

“Don’t you dare leave, Severus!”

“What’s done is done, Remus,” he said softly, and slipped inside his shadow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok a short chapter just to dip my foot back in the pool and see if I can get myself into writing the series again. No promises, though :)

I continued to stare at the bookcase that had so recently been filled with shadow that then swallowed Severus whole. My brain refused to make any rational sense of what had just happened. He was gone; I comprehended that well enough but where to and why exactly remained beyond my grasp.

Recalling his final words I attempted to excavate some sense from it all. He’d mentioned a debt…my eyes widened, it had to relate to Sirius. Something he’d promised an acquaintance in exchange for information on the Arch; that was the only explanation. But what had he promised, and more importantly, to whom?

I kicked myself mentally for just accepting his vague responses and determining to discover all only after Sirius was returned. But how could I possibly have known he’d vanish before my eyes just hours afterwards? I couldn’t, it was as simple as that and the less time I spent in self-recrimination the more I’d have to work out what was happening. And perhaps more importantly, just what I could do about it.

First order of business, I decided, was to begin by looking for clues. I started with the chair I’d seen him sitting in previously. He’d been reading a book and it remained sitting on the cushion. I picked it up and read, “Fairy Stories from Around the World”. Frowning, I thumbed through it only to discover it was a Muggle children’s book. The illustrations remained disturbingly motionless on each page, children frozen with expressions of glee or horror…and ridiculously inaccurate depictions of goblins, ghouls and what not. 

I’d always found illustrated Muggle books as appealing as cemeteries, and it was all I could do not to put the book right back down where I’d found it. But disturbing or no, Severus must have had a reason to thumb through this one.

“Start at the beginning,” I admonished myself. “Whose book is this?” Not his, or at least not an original as they’d all been destroyed previously with the exception of the Sherlock Holmes anthology. “So if not his,” I mused aloud, “then whose?”

It came to me then, this was Scrimgoer’s doing, it was the only explanation. The former Minister must have included it when he repopulated Severus’ library. I could see him finding this volume nearly as amusing as the complete collection of Gilderoy Lockhart’s nonsensical tomes I knew full well Severus only kept for the purposes of hiding contraband in or behind during his incarceration. Whether the Minister had found it amusing or simply believed it could neither help nor interest Severus, he’d apparently been quite mistaken.

I flipped through the pages quickly, hoping to find some dog-eared or perhaps a bookmark to indicate where he’d left off. It was an utterly pointless exercise as his memory was such that I’d never seen him employ either tactic to hold his place in a book. Still I persisted, though I hurried past the “Big Bad Wolf” chapter. I doubted he’d need to dwell on that imagery when he cohabited, at least part time, with a werewolf.

Sighing, I laid the book down and decided to move on. Whatever had drawn him to it would remain a mystery at least for the present. Entering the kitchen I opened the pantry door to discover Severus’ potion making tools tucked snugly away behind the potatoes and canned peaches. “Well he hasn’t taken his tools, that’s something.”

At least marginally reassured I padded upstairs and flung open our closet door. My heart sank. His clothing and shoes were gone, including his favorite jumper and robe. So he was planning to be away for some time then. Certainly long enough to need fresh clothing, a good deal of fresh clothing. But he hadn’t taken his most precious and useful possessions.

“And this tells me…nothing.”

Whimsy cracked an eye at me from his napping spot between the pillows but refrained from comment.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's actually been a few years since I poked at this story in any proper way but I'm going to try to rectify that as I think it's good enough to actually finish. This bit is unedited so if you see any mistakes don't hesitate to drop me a comment. I'll try to post a little something at least once every few weeks. Also if Minerva sounds a bit more...let us say...Violet-y in this bit you can totally blame Downton Abbey.

I was halfway to Hogwarts when the thought hit me. Why was I doing this? Severus was a grown man who could make his own decisions. He wasn't my responsibility. I could easily get off at the next station, head straight back to Spinner's End and continue with my life. I didn't have to chase after him like an infatuated schoolgirl. I could trust that he knew what he was doing.

It was decidedly tempting. After all while I'd asked for his help I'd never required nor desired him to go to these lengths. It certainly wasn't my fault he always felt the need to take everything to extremes.

"All right," I said under my breath, thankful there was no one in the compartment to hear me, "I'll just go to Hogwarts and speak with Albus. I'll do that much, that and no more. At any rate Albus won't have the foggiest clue what Severus has done and this is all just a ridiculous waste of time." Somehow I felt, if not relieved, then a bit unburdened. I'd do my bit, have a chat with my former headmaster's portrait and leave none the wiser for my troubles. Still it was a pleasant day, a quiet trip, and Harry was minding Sirius without complaint so no harm done.

Was I rationalizing? Probably. But the desperation I'd originally felt to find my lover was quickly turning to resignation, even resentment. I was growing weary of the secrets and forever feeling a step behind Severus. Perhaps this was for the best when it came down to it.

I exited the train and made for the school, delighted to see the fair weather was holding. It was mid-year and it'd be swarming with students. Still, Minerva had been delighted to hear from me and bade me come at my earliest convenience. The walk was rather pleasant on a sunny afternoon, a decided difference from the last time I'd made it.

With a slight shudder I shook off the thought. Best not to dwell on those dark, terrifying, profoundly painful days. Not when I had a full belly, a pair of shoes without a single hole in them, a few Galleons in my pocket and only one truly overwhelming concern gnawing away at my mind and heart.

I entered and gave Filch a jaunty salute. He and Mrs. Norris glared balefully from the shadows. "Some things never change," I muttered, determined not to let them foul my mood.

Making my way up to the Headmaster's office I smiled and waved at the handful of students who recognized me. Admittedly I was still enjoying my celebrity. It was downright delightful to be stared at because of one's fame rather than one's unfortunate monthly indispositions.

Minerva met me at the gargoyle and threw her arms around my neck. "Remus, I'm so happy to see you again. It's been entirely too long!"

"It has," I agreed amiably. "Time just seems to fly by these days."

"So it does," she sighed a little wistfully. Then with an almost impish smile, leaned closer and said, "I heard you on that Book Nook program."

"Tell me I didn't sound a right tosser."

"Don't be silly." She took my arm and guided me to her office. "You sounded very distinguished, quite professional. I very much enjoyed your story. I just wish…" she paused to open the door before continuing, "I just wish we hadn't lost so many to that awful woman."

I nodded sadly. "That kind of madness is almost impossible to discover or stop, it was only Severus' brilliance that saved the rest of us."

"Yes, I suppose so. And yet in a way he too had some responsibility in the deaths."

I tensed and stared at Minerva aghast. "You can't really blame him for what Wildersock did. She was insane, completely and utterly mad." I tempered my tone quickly, "Yes she used Severus as an excuse to harm others but honestly it could have been anyone or anything that set her off. He was just a convenient rationalization for her desire to commit murders."

Minerva seemed decidedly unconvinced. Indeed I'd seen that tight-lipped expression of disapproval aimed at myself on more than one occasion in my youth. It was a look that said in no uncertain terms, 'So you say, young man, now shall we discuss what really happened?'

My shoulders stiffened just a tad with a combination of righteous indignation and defensiveness. "I was there, Minerva, I saw the lengths he went to in order to stop her. He nearly…" I clamped my mouth shut abruptly, I'd nearly said 'killed himself' to Minerva McGonagal. Not a slip I cared to contemplate in any real detail at that moment, still I had to pause for several seconds to allow my heart time to return to something resembling its normal rhythm. "You may not have ever cared for Severus, and I can't claim he lived a blameless life, but in this, Minerva, I can assure you he did everything in his power to bring those murders to an end. Whatever he might have done in life I believe he more than paid for it by sacrificing himself to stop Ms. Wildersock, don't you think?"

She merely sighed and shook her head a little sadly. I couldn't entirely blame her for holding onto her hatred for Severus. Despite the truth about Albus' death being revealed, it had to be said that Severus did kill our beloved former Headmaster, and she was not ready to accept why he'd been forced to. I placed a hand gently on one thin shoulder and said, "At any rate, he's gone now and Mina is locked away where she'll not hurt anyone else."

"I suppose that's true," she sniffled, dabbing a black lace handkerchief at her eyes before patting my hand. "I visited Luna last week, perhaps that's why I'm so…" She waved a hand and sighed again. "Poor child, oh that poor child."

"Is she…" I wasn't quite sure how to phrase my question. Luna's rather tenuous hold on reality had finally been destroyed by the violent murder of her husband, Neville. Since then she'd been in protective custody, lost in her own fantastical world filled with Billywigs and Snidgets. "How is she?"

"The same." Minerva removed her hat and set it primly on Fawkes' old perch. "She remembers who I am and we had a lovely chat but she can't face the idea that her husband is gone. Whenever she strays too close to the thought you can just see something in her eyes close like a shutting door. I'm not sure that it isn't for the best, really. At least she seems…happy. Or some semblance of happy at any rate."

Minerva closed the door behind us and leaned against it for a moment. Her expression was suddenly quite reserved, almost hesitant. "Remus," she began, stepping away from the door reluctantly and laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. "There's a story going about, that awful Skeeter woman no doubt, they're saying," she paused and began again, "they're saying Sirius is alive and currently at St. Mungo's. That…that can't possibly be true, can it, Remus?"

I wasn't certain what I'd been expecting in those tense few seconds before she'd blurted it out, but it wasn't that. "Merlin!" I huffed somewhere between annoyance and amusement, "Word certainly does travel quickly."

For the very first time in my life I had managed to stun Minerva McGonagall. And not for lack of trying either, I might add. She blinked at me rather owlishly then asked, "You've already heard then?"

"Not exactly." I ran a hand through my graying locks and ducked my head sheepishly. "You see I was the one who found him."

"Oh," she breathed, one hand fluttering about her face and the other pressed to her chest. "I might've known. If anyone could find him it would certainly be you." Pausing and shaking her head she asked, "But how ever did you manage such a thing?"

"It's rather a long story but I can say I did have some help from a wizard rather more steeped in Eastern magic than myself."

She nodded, her thin lips compressing into an even tighter line. I didn't need to ask what she thought about "Eastern magic". "I see. And Sirius, is he…"

"He's alive." It was the best I could offer at the moment. With a deep breath I hurried on. "It's actually about the wizard I mentioned that I'm here today. You see I'm afraid that by freeing Sirius I may have inadvertently gotten my new friend into some sort of trouble, but my own understanding of Eastern magic is so limited I thought it best to come here to consult with you and Albus."

Tapping her lips with one long finger she sighed, "Would that I could offer you some assistance, Remus, but I'm afraid my own knowledge extends only so far as a semester abroad at Durmstrang when I was just a lass. And as you know they practice Western traditions much like our own. I'd be happy to contact their headmaster for you if you think it might help."

"It just might," I conceded thoughtfully. It certainly wouldn't be my first choice but as a back up plan it had a certain amount of merit. "In the meantime perhaps I could ask Albus a few questions?"

She smiled serenely and patted my arm. I suspected she thought my request was merely an excuse to spend time with the former headmaster and I was delighted to encourage the belief. Anything that kept her sharp mind well away from the truth was just fine with me. "Of course, dear, you know where to find him. If you don't mind I need to run along and speak to Mr. Filch. Apparently there's something to do with Whiz-bangs and the Slytherin Boys' restrooms." She rolled her eyes and shook her head with obvious annoyance.

"Oh please, don't let me keep you." I smiled cheekily and added, "And if you should need to verify my own alibi, I'm reasonably certain Hagrid will remember seeing me as I passed his cabin."

Minerva hummed thoughtfully, her long legs carrying her quickly to the door. The woman was still every bit the vital energetic witch who'd first cowed me in Transfiguration class oh so many decades earlier. I couldn't honestly imagine a Hogwarts without her.

Of course the same could be said for Albus. We'd all learned to adjust to his loss, possibly because it was cushioned by the continued presence of his portrait. I watched her leave and then moved over to the portrait wall with a cursory nod to several of the headmasters and mistresses. Well, not all, Umbridge all but leaped up from her chair and stalked beyond the borders of her own drab little painting, nose firmly in the air. I felt the tiniest bit guilty about inflicting her on some other poor, blameless portrait. Perhaps she was off to trade malicious gossip with the Fat Lady. Wherever she was it meant I didn't have to feign politeness, which suited me right down to the ground.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Albus," I said softly, staring up into his rather grand but startlingly cozy portrait.

He glanced up from the book he was reading, blue eyes taking me in with a single glance over his half moon spectacles. "Not at all, my boy, it's always a delight to see you." Shutting the cover he leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "Minerva read me the Daily Prophet piece on Sirius. That was some first class wizardry, lad, first class. Though I'll admit to being downright flummoxed as to how it was done precisely. You certainly didn't tear the Arch apart or I should think you'd still be down at the Ministry answering tedious questions and filling out hundreds of pointless forms."

"No," I replied with a slight smile, "I didn't destroy the Arch. Tell me, Albus, are you familiar at all with the Eastern concept of 'the Gloom'?"

The former headmaster leaned back and stroked his beard thoughtfully. The perpetual spring morning sun of his portrait reflected almost eerily off his spectacles. "Ah," was all he said for several more moments. Finally he straightened and asked, "How is it that you became acquainted with it, if I might ask? It certainly wasn't a part of even the most advance curricula at Hogwarts."

"No," I admitted, my eyes lingering on the dull brown wool of my trousers, "no, it wasn't in any syllabus or textbook. I, um, have a friend who is familiar with Eastern magic and he…"

Albus held up one finely wrought hand and stilled my tongue quite effectively. "My dear Remus, you are about to launch into a rather lengthy narrative during which you will try, unsuccessfully I assure you, to convince me of the existence of this unknown but profoundly talented stranger. I think we can save ourselves a good deal of time and embarrassment if I assure you I am quite aware that Severus is still alive and that he was, in fact, the one who helped you to release Sirius."

I couldn't have been more gobsmacked if he'd just declared himself a horcrux. Before I could pull myself together sufficiently to reply Phineas Nigellus muttered snidely from my right, "Well honestly it was obvious to anyone paying attention. Severus was always far too clever to see suicide as his only method of escape." He puffed up slightly, and straightened the lapels of his rather grandiose Slytherin robes. "No Slytherin worth their house tie would indulge in such mental laxity or self-pity."

Albus raised one busy eyebrow at that but refrained from comment. "Let me put your mind at ease, yes I know Severus is alive and free and no, I have absolutely no intention of sharing that information with Minerva or anyone else."

I breathed a profound sigh of relief, but had to correct him on one point. "Well, you see, that's rather the problem. I'm not entirely certain he is free at the moment."

"Hence your visit." Albus smiled, a thin line of mottled pink and black amidst the white strokes that constituted his beard. "Well, I suppose you'd best start at the beginning."

I did so, sparing him only the most personal details. I expect he read them easily enough between the lines but contented himself with small nods and thoughtful hums. When I'd finished I realized my hands were wringing like a penitent schoolboy answering for some mischief of James or Sirius' doing. Well, sometimes my own, but that was admittedly quite rare. I, after all, knew bloody well and good how to keep my mouth shut. I left the gloating to them.

He sat quietly for a moment, idly fingering the bowl of lemon drops to the right. I wondered how long it had taken him to lose the habit of immediately offering them to any poor soul entering this office. "There's really only one place he could possibly be, but I'm not entirely certain I'd be doing either of you the slightest favor by making you aware of it."

"Albus," I replied as calmly as possible. It really wouldn't do to lose my temper if he did have an inkling where Severus had gone. "If you don't tell me I promise you I won't let this go. I will work it out and I will find him regardless of where I might have to go or what I might have to do to get there." That may have been the slightest bit of hyperbole but I had certainly proven I wasn't about to let anything stand in the way of freeing Sirius. He had to know I could do no less for Severus.

"I doubt neither your sincerity nor your persistence, Remus. However, I think it very likely that Severus went into this…arrangement fully cognizant of the repercussions. He made a choice, Remus, perhaps it would be wiser if we both respected that."

"And that's it?" I couldn't really help the note of petulance that had crept into my voice. "Just have faith that Severus knew what he was doing and leave him to his fate?" I was on my feet and pacing a tight circle between Albus and Phineas, the latter watched me with his narrow, dark eyes. There was more than a hint of amusement on his ferret-like face that I didn't appreciate in the slightest.

"In this case," Albus sighed, "yes, yes I would recommend just that. I really cannot foresee a best case scenario otherwise."

I turned on his portrait abruptly. "If you think I'm leaving without an explanation now you're profoundly mistaken. Why would my following Severus to wherever he's buggered off to lead to disaster?"

Before my former headmaster could respond Phineas sniped, "How much, precisely, do you know about the East? I mean aside from your shockingly shallow grasp of the Gloom."

I rounded on him angrily. "Admittedly not much but I'm perfectly capable of doing a bit of research and…"

"Research?" Nigellus was practically apoplectic before taking what appeared to be a long, calming breath. "Tell me something, young man." His voice grew almost lilting which immediately made me ill at ease. "Do you truly believe you can read a few books and be prepared to face wizards whose magic you've only recently become aware of? Remember your first reaction to the Gloom? Multiply that a hundredfold and you'd just be scratching the surface. And that's not even mentioning the politics that hold sway over the East dating back to the Dark Ages. Oh you could possibly look up the more prominent current powers that be, you might even begin to comprehend the Grand Treaty on a somewhat infantile level, and you could perhaps even find yourself an ally or two." The wizard leaned forward, his fingers curling almost claw-like on the arms of his throne-like chair. "But that, you young idiot, is roughly as likely as what remains of Neville Longbottom being voted next Headmaster of Hogwarts." 

Albus made an unhappy noise and seemed about to cut of Phineas' rant, but the Slytherin overrode him, voice growing increasingly shrill with disdain. "No, Albus, you'll coddle this moron to death if you have your way. Severus has made his bed and is, even as we speak, lying in it. You cannot help him, you cannot save him. He undoubtedly finagled the best terms he could under the circumstances, say what you will about Snape, he's always had a good head on his shoulders. Well," Phineas drawled, looking down his nose at me, "in most areas of his life, at any rate. Indeed, were it not for his unfortunate and all too lengthy attachment to you there's very little he could not have accomplished in this life."

"That's enough, Phineas, "Albus sighed wearily, "quite enough."

"For a House that makes such pretty noises about honesty and the glory of truth, you Gryffindors certainly seem happy enough to avoid it when it suits you."

"And you Slytherins have the rather unfortunate talent for turning even the most harmless of truths into weapons."

Phineas didn't seem the slightest bit insulted as he peered over his frame at the other wizard. "I simply don't have the time, patience nor temperament to mollycoddle everyone as you do." He leaned back and eyed me critically. "You're not in love with Severus, are you?"

I goggled helplessly for a few seconds then recovered enough to huff, "I really don't know how this relates to…"

"You're buggering him, or unless I miss my guess, he's buggering you, that much is obvious."

I could hear the startled gasps or melodramatic moans of the other portraits and saw several fleeing their frames in horror. Shaking my head, I muttered, "That is absolutely none of your business."

"Quite right," Albus chimed in, popping a lemon drop into his mouth and giving me a cheerful wink. I couldn't be entirely certain, but I rather got the impression that he approved of my relationship (such as it was) with Severus.

Of course, Phineas felt it necessary to ruin the moment. "If it's not love it's guilt and I can tell you right now he won't thank you for it." He paused and smirked slyly. "There is…well, I almost hesitate to mention it, but have you considered that perhaps this was simply an elaborate ruse on his part to leave you?"

To say that the thought had never occurred to me would have been a vast understatement. "You must admit," he chuckled almost to himself, "it has far more dramatic flare than a simple 'Dear Remus' letter."

"Phineas," Dumbledore's voice had gone low and threatening, like the first rumble of thunder in the distance. I'd weathered a few of his storms in my Order days and took a cautious step back. "That is utterly preposterous and you know it. Unless, of course, you're aware of some change in Severus' Patronus of late that has eluded my attention."

The Slytherin merely rolled his eyes and waved his hand as if Dumbledore's remonstration was merely an unpleasant odor. "Hardly a valid argument as neither of us has so much as spoken to him in years. But you must admit there's a certain elegance to the idea and it would simplify matters immensely."

"Phineas…" Albus seemed to be seriously considering marching over to Black's portrait and dumping the entire bowl of lemon drops on the other wizard's head.

"Oh far be it from me to stand in the way of such an epic, if entirely one-sided love." Phineas smiled nastily and purred, "Best send him on his way, then, hadn't you? Our young knight-errant must away to save his paramour. It's cruel to keep these two star-crossed lovers apart any longer."

My eyes were flicking between the two headmasters as if I were watching a pair of talented Seekers battling in earnest for a darting Snitch. 

"If you don't tell him…"

"Moscow." 

I almost forgot how to breathe. Albus had uttered the one word I'd been waiting for and, in equal parts, dreading. Moscow? How in Merlin's name was I going to get to Moscow and if I did, how would I possibly find Severus there? "How do you…"

"He's gone to the one person who could possibly have given him the information you required to free Sirius. She's an ancient witch of considerable power and influence who has rather successfully managed to skirt both the Grand Treaty as well as the respective leaders of the forces of Light and Darkness in the East. If Severus traded himself for the information you required he'll be with her in Moscow."

"And who is this incredibly powerful witch?"

Albus looked down on me with a profound expression of regret. "The Yaga, my dear boy. You must speak to Baba Yaga."


	10. Chapter 10

I knocked at the all too familiar door and steeled myself against the almost mechanical nature of my reactions to my ex-wife. They were as familiar to me as a well-worn path and as senseless as a child's tantrum. I had no right to feel possessive and jealous but somehow I always did. Then a deep breath followed by several minutes of bitterness. The self-pity would kick in on my way home.

The door flew open to reveal a blonde-haired vision. The only real clue to her identity was the single, scuffed boot still adorning one foot. She blinked at me from a slightly tilted angle, then her features shifted into their familiar, if less glamorous appearance. "'Lo Remus, what's up?"

I smiled politely. "That was a new look."

"Oh," she ran a hand through her once again pink-ish locks and replied, "yeah I've been doing a bit of surveillance work these days and I like to try out little changes here and there. Keeps me occupied on long nights."

"Ah well, that's…that's quite a step forward in your skills."

"Charlie's helped a lot, he's great at feedback and he really seems to fancy that particular look…" 

Her voice trailed off and I silently acknowledged both jealousy and bitterness setting up house together in my psyche. "That's good." It was an inane thing to say, but it filled the space where a rather nasty comment about Charlie's tastes might have crept out. I almost felt proud of myself, but pride was having little luck against its more negative colleagues. Still, I hadn't come all this way to pine for my ex on what was once our front stoop. I took that inevitable deep breath and asked, "Speaking of Charlie, I don't suppose he's about?"

"Think so, why?"

It was a bit of good luck at long bloody last. "Excellent," I replied, then realized I apparently needed to be a bit less subtle with Dora. "Don't suppose I could come in and speak to him, could I?"

"Oh. Oh! Yes, of course, please come in." She stepped unevenly back and promptly banged the edge of the door into her own shoulder.

"All right there?"

She smiled ruefully and said, "Same as I was ever was. But I live in hope of one day being completely bruise-free."

"A worthy goal," I agreed quietly.

She immediately darted in front of me in her odd, lop-sided gait grabbing random items from the floor and tossing them into the coat closet. The latter seemed perilously close to regurgitating what appeared to be some old Quidditch gear and month's worth of dirty laundry. "'Scuse the mess," she sighed shrugging helplessly. "I'm working a few double shifts and Charlie is…well, Charlie."

I waved off her concern and cleared away a copy of the Daily Prophet to make room for myself on the sofa. As I placed it on the already overflowing coffee table I realized I'd inadvertently made the headlines again. An image of me leaning close to Sirius, holding his hand and silently brushing errant locks of hair from his forehead greeted me on the front page. I groaned softly.

"Is that it?" Dora inclined her head toward the paper. "Is that why you've come to speak to Charlie?"

"In a way," I said mildly, then gave her a rather pointed look.

"Oh, right, I'll just go fetch him." With that she darted toward what once had been our bedroom. I gave myself leave to feel just a twinge of nostalgia for the life we'd once shared. I had loved her once. Or at least I was reasonably certain I had. The more time passed the more I wondered if I'd really just wanted companionship; a friend who wouldn't eventually outgrow and abandon me.

I had to admit, at least to myself, that my relationship with Severus shared little to nothing in common with my marriage. But was it love? Was it even truly a relationship?

Before I could follow that thought any further a decidedly rumpled Charlie Weasley made his way down the hall with a certain amount of trepidation. His hair was now down to his shoulders and more ragged than usual; Molly would be horrified. In addition he'd apparently decided to grow a goatee. I tried to imagine Severus' reaction to that and literally had to bite my cheek to keep from giggling.

Dora limped behind him, still apparently unaware of the shoe situation. I assumed my most consciously harmless expression. The same one that unfailingly won over even the most embittered bureaucrat, and which never failed to draw a snicker from Severus.

Charlie was dressed in a Puddlemere t-shirt and jeans with a rather gaping hole at the left knee. On anyone else they'd have seemed an affectation, but given his career I could easily imagine a thousand ways the damage might have come to be. He scratched thoughtfully at his goatee as he took a seat across from me. "Remus, this is quite a surprise."

"Yes, I'm sorry to intrude."

"You're not intruding," Dora cut in unexpectedly taking a seat beside me. "You're always welcome, you know that."

My lips automatically drew into a grimace so I opened them into what I hoped was a vaguely plausible smile. "That's very kind of you, but…"

"I mean especially after you saved Sirius. I can't even imagine how you did it. The Prophet was so spotty, something about seeing him at the old house and that bloody Arch…"

"It was quite an adventure," I agreed, cutting off her nervous rambling before she could really work up a head of steam.

"You seem to find yourself caught up in a few of those these days." Charlie added, continuing to study me thoughtfully.

"Ah, well, you didn't know me when…"

Dora laughed and bumped against me affectionately. "Some of the things he used to get up to with the Marauders would curl your hair!"

"Just so." I took a few seconds to gather my thoughts. "Actually I'm here to speak to Charlie about the east."

His left eyebrow quirked. "The east?"

"Well I know you've spent a good deal of time in Romania but I was wondering about Russia in particular. I know you've traveled around the area quite extensively."

"My work takes me there from time to time."

Dora goggled at him. "Charlie you just got back from St. Petersburgh two weeks ago." Her eyes narrowed. "What are you playing at?"

He returned her glare and I cut in quickly, "I was wondering if you might be able to point me to an interpreter and guide who could get me around Moscow with relatively little fuss and bother."

That got Charlie's full attention. "Moscow? Why do you need to go to Moscow?"

"It's a rather long story but I can assure you it's vitally important that I go…soon."

"Moscow is…tricky." Charlie seemed to ponder the options then asked, "Do you understand about the Watches?"

"Only what I've read in my comparative magic texts I'm afraid. I believe there are two, the Night Watch and the Day Watch."

"There's a third," he interrupted then waved his hand dismissively. "That's not really important, though. What is important is that all magic users in Russia are required to choose a side, Light or Dark. Once they've chosen they are required to play by some very strict rules."

"How do you mean?"

He leaned back in his chair and said, "Well any 'intervention' made by someone on either side has to be balanced by an action on the other." He could see I wasn't quite following him and continued. "Ok, imagine you wanted to heal a friend of some dangerous wound. You could but then Lucius Malfoy could claim the right to do something equal and opposite but of precisely the same power. And he wouldn't have to do it immediately either. He could hold that spell until whenever he chose to use it."

"That sounds…complicated," Dora muttered.

"That's just the most simplistic description. But it's kept all out war from breaking out for centuries now." He shrugged and played with the frayed denim strands on his left knee. "Our way of doing things usually means we end up with a Voldemort every century or so leading their troops into battle. The Grand Treaty maintains at least the veneer of civility and peace." 

"Would I be required to choose a side?"

"No, you'd declare yourself a neutral visitor and so long as you didn't directly attack one side or the other you'd be basically ignored." He paused then added, "Probably."

"Probably?" I prodded him gently.

"Well it would depend on the nature of your visit, how tied up the two Watches were with one another, and whether you crossed the wrong Dark One's path at the wrong time. Western wizards aren't generally harmed over there but they've been turned into unwitting pawns in a game they can't begin to comprehend on more occasions than one."

"Lovely," I sighed, wondering yet again if this wasn't all a big mistake on my part.

"Look, Remus," Charlie leaned forward earnestly and said, "my advice is to steer clear of the whole mess. If you're just doing some research for your next book there are easier, safer ways to do it."

"It's…not that simple." If only it were I'd be at home at that very instant working out ways to find out what I needed via interviews and library research. "I'm afraid I really must get to Moscow."

"Why?" he asked cautiously.

I answered with no little trepidation, "I need to speak to Baba Yaga."

You'd have thought I'd hit him with a Petrificus Totalis. His jaw hung open motionlessly, blue eyes wide with astonishment. Dora fidgeted nervously at my side. "Charlie?"

Finally he blinked and a bit of color returned to his face. "You're mad."

He started to get up and walk away but Dora lunged for him, sending a pile of magazines toppling to the floor. "Hang on. Where are you going?"

"Away from this lunacy just as fast as I can." 

I couldn't totally blame him for his reaction; still he was the only one who might know of a reputable guide through the area. I morosely wondered if a travel agent might be able to suggest someone who might likely abandon me in a foreign city or rob me blind at the first opportunity. It wasn't a terribly heartening thought, still needs must and all that. Standing as well, I said, "I'll be on my way, then."

"Hang on both of you." Dora grabbed one of my arms as well and glared at each of us before muttering, "Nobody's going anywhere until I find out who this Yaga person is and why Remus needs to go talk to her."

The expression on her face was all too familiar. My ex-wife might not be the most graceful or brilliant woman on the planet, but she could out stubborn even Albus himself when she put her mind to it…hence her inclusion in the Order of the Phoenix. It was less a question of whether I would answer her and more a concern about how much I could reasonably reveal to these two. I sank slowly back down to the sofa.

Apparently Charlie had already learned the pointlessness of arguing with her and followed suit. She nodded with grim satisfaction and joined us. "Right, so Remus, why do you have to go to Russia to speak to this Yaga person?"

I collected my thoughts for a few seconds, then decided that skirting the truth would be the simplest plan at present. I reached down and picked up the Prophet again. "I'm sure you've both read this article and were wondering why I kept my responses somewhat vague as to how exactly Sirius came to be freed." When they both nodded I continued. "You may have thought I intended to include the details in a book, and I may…someday. But that wasn't the real reason. You see, I didn't free Sirius alone. I had help, a…friend who assisted me with the research aspect of the plan. He…" I paused, reminding myself to stay calm and keep this as vague as possible. "He's very private, a bit paranoid really and stipulated from the start that he wasn't to be mentioned. All went well, we saved Sirius, and then my friend…vanished."

"How do you mean?"

I met Charlie's eyes and asked, "Do you know of the Gloom?" He merely shuddered, which I took as confirmation. For Dora's benefit I explained, "The Gloom is another dimension, we pass through it instantaneously when we Apparate but eastern wizards travel through it in profoundly different ways. It's dark and…and hungry, a place you have no desire to spend much time in it if you can avoid it. My friend stepped into the Gloom and was just…gone."

"So where'd he go?"

Charlie answered Dora's question for me, "To the Yaga, probably to pay her back for the information they used to free Sirius. Is that about right?"

I nodded glumly. "I took it upon myself to contact her via a Ministry interpreter and received confirmation that my friend is currently her 'guest'."

"Why do you think going to Moscow will change anything? I mean, unless you intend to exchange your freedom for his."

Dora seemed profoundly alarmed by that. "Remus, you're not thinking of…"

"No," I demurred firmly. "I'd just like to observe the situation myself, understand the terms of the agreement and see if perhaps there isn't a mutually beneficial method for obtaining his release."

"The Yaga isn't known for 'mutually beneficial' terms. If your friend knew anything about her he'd certainly have been aware of that. If not he was a fool to make a deal with an ancient, powerful and dark sorceress without doing his homework first."

"He's no fool," I replied as mildly as I could, "far from it. Indeed I think he was fully willing to sacrifice himself in this case. I, however, am not too keen on the whole arrangement and I need to…I just need to, well, try. I'm not sure I could live with myself if I didn't at least make some effort to obtain his release."

Charlie pulled at his goatee thoughtfully before saying, "Do you have the Yaga's permission to go?"

"I have her explicit invitation, actually."

"Well, that's something. Either she's intrigued by what you might have to offer or she already wants something from you. In either case you're going to need someone you can trust to help you get there and back safely."

"That's precisely what I was…"

Charlie cut me off, apparently still lost in thought, "I know three chaps who might fancy the challenge but I'd trust them to get you into more trouble rather than less. So I suppose there's only one thing for it."

"Yes?"

"I'll be coming with you."

A stunned silence fell over the little sitting room. I'm not entirely certain who was more appalled by this idea. "Charlie, I couldn't possibly ask…" I finally managed to choke out.

"You didn't ask, I offered." He gave Dora a rakish smile. "C'mon, hon, you don't expect me to just stand by and watch Remus wander into danger alone when I can help, do you?"

Her hair changed from mousy brown to black, then a bright auburn in quick succession before she answered, "No, I suppose I don't." She stared at him for several seconds, long and hard and laden with some secret underlying meaning I couldn't begin to grasp. Some little part of me tightened into a cold little lump around that lost language, one she and I had shared so effortlessly long ago. I wondered vaguely if Severus and I could commune in that wordless way, if we could shut out everyone else in the world. We'd created our own little world to be certain, exclusive and private, but for the most part what bubbled up through that strange and brilliant mind of his remained an utter mystery to me.

My reverie was interrupted by Dora's next words, "But if either of you thinks you're going without me you're daft!"

I covered my pained groan with a cough then said, "Really it's awfully kind of you both but completely unnecessary."

Neither one was paying me the slightest bit of attention, however. "Dor, be sensible, you don't know the city any better than Remus."

"No, I don't but I am an Auror and I have access to some official channels that might come in handy."

I nearly panicked at the thought of 'official channels' becoming involved but Charlie seemed to be considering the idea seriously. "You may have a point."

"'Course I do, it just makes sense for me to come along, though I don't know if I've anything nice enough to wear to meet Baba Yaga."

The situation was suddenly spiraling quite out of control. With my heart in my throat, I managed a feeble, "No, really, I just need a contact…"

"It's no trouble at all, Remus."

"Yes, yes it is!" I'd roused myself enough, at last, to break through the dismissive chatter of the other two. "It's very kind of you to offer, truly it is, but I cannot take you with me to Moscow."

"Why not?" Dora seemed genuinely puzzled.

"For a variety of reasons including but not limited to the fact that I may need to follow lines of inquiry or take actions that might put me and anyone with me in danger."

"Which is precisely why we should go," Charlie returned. "We know what we're getting into, can handle ourselves in a sticky situation and you know you can rely on us."

"It'll be just like the old days, the Order days, Remus," Dora chirped, clearly warming to the idea of an Order of the Phoenix reunion.

I paused, profoundly torn. It was true that I needed help if I was going to have a hope in hell of rescuing Severus. But these two people could cause as much, or more trouble simply by accompanying me. And, Merlin forbid, they should find out about Severus. I paused to shudder mentally. Could Dora extradite him from Russia? Was that even legal?

Of course that was putting the cart a bit ahead of the horse. I might not even be able to free Severus. This might just be a fact-finding mission. After all, he'd agreed to the Yaga's terms and she might have no desire to part with her latest acquisition.

The problem was that I didn't know, couldn't know for certain until and unless I went and spoke to her. And it was entirely possible that this would be a short, relatively uneventful trip. Indeed Charlie and Dora might spend most of it in their hotel room or flitting about Moscow's tourist destinations.

If that was the case I'd be a fool to turn them down. Worse than a fool, actually, I could almost feel Severus sneering at me. And there was the chance that they'd actually come in handy. Ultimately there was only one real question to be answered in all of this, did I truly want to venture into Moscow alone, and the answer to that was profoundly obvious. No, no I didn't want to set out on my own. It wasn't as if Sirius would be able to join me and Merlin's beard, I was just so tired of having to do everything myself. I could use their help. I could use them. They owed me this, after all.

Yes, there was that.

I smiled and said, "I suppose we'd all best get packed. We leave in two days time."


End file.
